


Feverbourne

by LadyJaneGrey92



Category: Fever Series - Karen Marie Moning, Highlander Series--Karen Marie Moning, Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Explicit Language, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Seelie Court, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-08-07 14:57:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16410644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJaneGrey92/pseuds/LadyJaneGrey92
Summary: Created for the **DARK VICBOURNE FEST** and the Facebook group, "For the Love of Vicbourne".Vicbourne meets Fever...This is a AU mashup of Victoria, and Karen Marie Moning's masterful Fever series.  Setting:  Ireland.  Time period:  Current.  Genre: Urban Fantasy.Victoria Alexander is fulfilling a life-long dream working at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, in the archeology department.  She has landed the best of all jobs--assistant to the program's founder, the dashingly handsome Dr. William Lamb.  But all is not what it seems.  There is something odd about Dublin, the people she meets, and especially Dr. Lamb.  When she accompanies Dr. Lamb on her first archeological dig in the UK, their discoveries will open up a world she never knew existed, and force her to choose whether or not to follow her own heart to whatever end.Victoria is played by Jenna Coleman, Dr. William Lamb by Rufus Sewell, and Jericho Barrons by David Gandy.  Ryodan and all the MacKeltars are uncast.  All other supporting characters and cast that appear from Victoria are played by the same actors as are on the show.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ~~For fans of the Fever series~~  
> As far as the Fever timeline goes, this story takes place sometime before even Alina Lane makes it to Dublin, much less Mac. The Sinsar Dubh has already escaped. Even though there is no Lord Master yet, there is an increase in the number of Fae in the city of both types. It also should be noted this writer has taken some liberty with a few accepted facts related to Fae lore, and a few selected other established elements in the books. (For instance, there is no Fiona, there is an expanded interest in at least one of the more mysterious OOPS, and some changes to accepted facts related to the Seelie Court...or at least to the members that we know.) These are not oversights, they are deliberate poetic license and are part of the story. No disrespect to the original story is intended. The author views these embellishments as potential expansions, and hope that they are enjoyable as such.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting the stage...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my Vicbourne friends who do not know Fever...I shall attempt to provide enough background for you to enjoy the story either using in-text explanations or in chapter notes. Please feel free to ask any questions you have in the comments also, in case anything is unclear. Definitions will appear in end notes of the chapter.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Prologue

 

_So long, he’d waited._

_An eternity within eternity, he’d waited for things to come around. With agonizing patience, he’d searched the world over, looking for that one other, that would speak to him, deep inside. For the Knowing. Time after time, he’d been disappointed. Disappointment, divided by bouts of despair and maniac longing, enough to raze worlds in the bone-deep agony of being always so very_

_Alone._

_It was the dark days, all over again._

_After the joy of discovering the one who completed him, the one who made his whole tedious existence bearable, made it all worthwhile, to lose her in one fell swoop—was impossible. Unthinkable. Unbearable! He’d never known before that he was lonely. That he was empty inside without her. But that first moment, when their eyes had met, each had known instantly they had discovered the one they didn’t even know they had been searching for._

_Such divine perfection!_

_Bodies melting together…finding sanctuary in the other…such utter peace…completion…home._

_At last._

_And then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone._

_Gone!_

_And he, the founder of worlds, arbiter of life and death itself for so many, could do nothing to stop it. He’d watched, helpless, as she was taken from him to a place he could never sift to, a place he could not follow. Wrenched from his arms forever. Leaving him alone and aching for her and her only, and no other could take her place._

_His world had turned inside out. Blackness, darkness, despair, madness all had claimed him in turn…so often, he’d longed for the oblivion the Cauldron of Forgetting would bring to him. Just one sip to end the pain forever…but in his grief, he could not bear to forget her. It would be the ultimate betrayal. She existed now only within himself. He was the keeper of her memory. To forget…would extinguish the spark that she was for all eternity—and he would be her murderer._

_He would bear all the pain every world could bring him, rather than let that be her fate._

_And then, one day, the unthinkable happened._

_After an eon of agony, he’d found her again._

_Impossibly, against all odds. That’s when he’d known…no matter how she was taken from him, she would always return. And when she did, deep inside of her, she would recognize him for who he was. And they would be drawn together again._

_And so it was, down through the ages.  In between he suffered, oh how he had suffered!  But it had been made bearable by the knowledge that she would return.  
_

_One time in particular, held a special grief for him. In that life, she was born a Queen. And in the life he’d chosen for himself in this mortal realm of that time, he had been beneath her. Unable to reveal himself…unable to claim her. At least, openly._

_But the laws of man stopped at the border of waking consciousness. They did not have knowledge enough to govern the wilds of The Dreaming. It was beyond their scope, beyond their control._

_But not beyond his._

_He had visited her nightly in that realm, and in the safety of The Dreaming, he had claimed her again. No matter what mortal she slept near, when she closed her eyes each night, she was his._

_Though admittedly it was not as satisfying as a more physical union would have been, his pain and hers had been assuaged. For neither could exist fully without the other. When at last they’d meet again in the daytime, bound and constrained by the standards of the time, he’d known when their eyes had met that her heart and soul were still his. For her eyes were filled with memories from The Dreaming. With the longing he himself felt to bring it into the waking world._

_But it was not to be, then._

_And after a time, it became necessary for him to leave her, as the natural life span of his chosen incarnation had run its course. But though he had removed himself from the human realm, he still visited her nightly in The Dreaming, until the time was right again for him to take a mortal shape. And in the wilds of a more northern land, he had again appeared to her as a simple man—this time wearing a different glamour and bearing a different name. But as it was with those who were joined for eternity, she recognized him instantly. And this time, though she was older, he loved her fully._

_When again he left her, he stayed with her in The Dreaming. Sometimes as Lord Melbourne. Sometimes as John Brown. But always as her servant, her knight, her devoted and undying lover. He, who was accustomed to the bowed knees of beings well beyond her, bowed his knee to her instead, offered her everything he was, everything he had. And then she knew his true nature—and loved him all the more._

_Not since the days of the Unseelie King had there been a Fae Prince who had fallen so deeply, desperately and hopelessly in love with a mortal woman. But unlike the unhappy king, this Prince had learned a secret. That patience and remembering were its own reward. And when the dark times returned, this time, there was hope. Hope in the knowing there would be a time for them again. And so he waited, and he remembered, and he searched. Fueled again by the memory of her love, and the confidence that she would return to him in kind, though still in grief, he was content to hope for the future. And fueled by that same hope, he had begun his own experiments. Not like the Unseelie King, whose creations were the product of madness and desperation. His was an offering of purest love, born in the patience and confidence that tomorrow, or maybe after a host of tomorrows, eventually she would return. And when all was finally in readiness, he would present it to her as a gift befitting the chosen consort of a Fae Prince._

_And then, she would never have to leave him again._

_Then the dark days would finally be over--forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some definitions to help with this chapter:
> 
> The Fae--an ancient race that once upon a time destroyed their own world and found ours to replace it. Their realms exist in what might be considered an alternative dimension, but still adjoining ours. They settled in and around Ireland predominantly. There are two courts--The Seelie and the Unseelie, or the Light court and the Dark. In each, there are four royal houses containing Princes and Princesses--the highest caste of the Fae. Other names they have been known by are Tuatha De Danaan, and simply fairies, or fairy folk. Though it would be a grievous mistake to confuse them with the likes of Tinkerbell.
> 
> Sifting--refers to the way the Fae travel through time and place. To humans, they simply disappear and reappear. Only the higher castes of Fae can sift.
> 
> The Cauldron of Forgetting--A Fae relic from the Seelie (or light) Court of the Fae. Since the Fae are immortal, occasionally they drink from the cauldron to forget. When they do, it erases all vestiges of their old life and it is like being born new again. This prevents madness.
> 
> The Unseelie King--is too vast to discuss here in much depth. More about him later. He is the father of the Unseelie, the creator of the Dark court of the Fae.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria's dreams about Dr. Lamb are beyond embarrassing. But she cannot control her reaction to her amazingly attractive supervisor. There is something strange about the dreams, and indeed strange about the man himself...something not quite natural that she cannot name. And he is not the only one. There are others she has encountered that give her the strange sensation that all is not what it seems. And when her friend and colleague, Christian MacKeltar of the Ancient Languages Department, asks her to purchase a rare book for him from a store on the edge of the Temple Bar District called Barrons' Books and Baubles, she thinks nothing of it. Not until she meets the owner, anyway....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse Barrons' bad language. It is the author's intent to try, to the best of her very limited ability when compared to the original author, to capture all Fever characters faithfully as they are portrayed in the books. Barrons, and some of the others, are fond of a good f-bomb...sorry in advance if this is off-putting. 
> 
> (Addendum: Barrons is demanding me to tell you that he doesn't give a F-- if you don't like his language and he's pissed that I apologized...I'm beginning to see that KMM has definitely had her hands full writing him all this time...)

Chapter 2

 

The scent of the orchids all around her invaded her senses. Victoria gasped to feel herself being lowered onto a bed of them, shimmering white and silvery in the moonlight, their velvety petals caressing her bare skin. What wickedness to be lying in the open like this! She would have been so ashamed, but the man who covered her robbed her of all shame. Robbed her of all breath.

“I have waited for you for so long,” he whispered, breath tickling her skin, making the nipples of her breasts hard as pebbles and her breathing come fast. His green eyes burned into hers, began to shimmer, taking on every hue of the rainbow as he gazed at her. “Oh my love, I am only complete when I am inside of you,” his voice moved over her and through her like a caress, and a strangled sound came out of her mouth—so animal and so needy it shocked her. Her body was on fire, every place he touched, burned.

_I need…Oh how I need…_

He dipped his head and kissed her, and the world exploded around her. And as he explored her mouth, she heard him speak into her mind.

_I will give you everything you need._

Then he was inside of her, driving slow and deep. She writhed, craving more. Oh yes, so much more...

_Everything…anything you desire…is yours. I can give you pleasure you cannot even imagine…_

His movements grew harder, sharper. The brightness inside of her bloomed. His hot mouth was on her breast, his hot hand on the other as he moved deep inside of her, wrapping her delicately in velvety feathered wings, lifting her as he drove hard inside, touching that place that only he could touch…

She woke up, her body wracked with the spasms of her release. She stuffed her pillow in her mouth and screamed until it faded, then dropped back against her mattress, spent and trembling.

And entirely alone.

Sometime later, Dash, her King Charles spaniel, nuzzled her gently, whimpering slightly.

“I’m okay Dash,” she picked up a weak hand and fondled his ears until he relaxed and lay back down again.

It had happened again!

Heat spread across her face in the semi-darkness of her bedroom. She stared straight up at the ceiling, burning with mortification. What had happened to her? She never used to dream this way. But ever since she’d come to Trinity College and met Dr. Lamb, who happened to be the most handsome man she’d ever seen, she’d begun having dreams about him that were so vivid, so real and erotic they made her come. Every. Single. Time.

It was humiliating. Shameful beyond words. If he were to ever find out…

Victoria abruptly climbed out of bed, wrapped herself in her robe and went to the window. The city of Dublin twinkled, a sea of electric lights under a starry night sky. It would be inappropriate to think Dublin ever slept, unless it was during the day. Beyond her window was a city that vibrated with nightlife, with what the Irish called _craic_ —a word that embodied the entertainment, fun and drinking that had given the Temple Bar District below her it’s world-wide reputation for entertainment that brought so many tourists each year. She could hear it now, practically vibrating through her feet—the live music, the joyous abandonment of the people that flowed in and out of its many pubs and clubs—after so many weeks of living here, she could hardly imagine life without its rhythm.

And yet, she’d never ventured down into it to become a part of it.

Victoria had always had too many important things to do. As an archeologist, she’d had to. It wasn’t easy to get accepted to Trinity’s junior staff as an American, much less to become assistant to the program’s founder, Dr. William Lamb. It was the highest honor she could ever have imagined.

She’d heard so many things about him—his expertise and passion for the world of archeology, his contribution to Britain’s growing treasure trove of prehistoric artifacts and the identification of several important religious sites throughout the country. He’d seemed to have almost an instinctive knowledge of such things, and almost every dig he ever sponsored had been a major discovery.

But in addition to these honors, there had been rumors about him of a more scintillating nature. He was reputed to be drop-dead gorgeous and almost dangerously charming. His name had been connected with various married women, whispers of affairs and trysts, some with truly eyebrow-raising details of…certain practices…that even in today’s world were, well, interesting, to say the least. Still. None of this had prepared her for the shock of meeting him, face to face.

None of the descriptions of his attractiveness had done him justice.

He saturated the space around him—electrified it. He was the sort of man so sexy as to rob a woman of all reason as well as breath. He was tall and distinguished, with a head of curly dark brown hair mixing with silver that framed an angular, chiseled face that could make angels weep with its beauty. But it was his eyes that were the most arresting. Large, round and green as emeralds, they were framed with thick, long eyelashes that softened the harder planes of his face and gave him an almost boyish charm. His voice did nothing to detract from the sight of him--soft and slightly gruff with a cultured English accent, it rushed across her ears like silk across her skin.

How Victoria had struggled through that first meeting! She was not a promiscuous woman, nor was she a woman who had a great experience of men. Having been the most serious of students for the whole of her time growing up, she had not made time for the boys around her in her small Tennessee town. Oh they'd been cute enough, some of them, but she'd been too focused on her studies to date. Even the cutest of these could not compare to the majestic man before her.

She had been so aware of him she could hardly sit still. She’d been fidgety without knowing why, changing positions—crossing her legs one way and then the other—hooking her hair behind her ear only to let it fall in a brown curtain before her face the next moment. She hadn’t known what to do with her hands. They’d fluttered helplessly at one moment, and been gripped tightly in her lap the next. Even her bra felt uncomfortably tight…it was as if every part of her was responding to the man before her, who regarded her discomfort through hooded eyes greener than the famed Emerald Isle itself.

He had been very gentlemanly—no doubt he was used to the effect he had on women, she thought morosely as he’d ushered her out of his office that day with a small smile playing around his gorgeous lips. Just looking at them had made her wet hers openly, and then mentally slap herself for being so stupid as to transmit so much of her shameful thoughts so clearly.

She wanted him to take her seriously, as a professional colleague, not think she was a flake of a girl who was after something from him that had nothing to do with archeology.

But if he thought that, he’d never given her any indication of it. He’d always been very professional and kind to her, and over the last three months she’d been his assistant, they’d grown what she hoped was a genuine friendship and camaraderie, based around a mutual love of history, archeology and digging in the earth. In fact, they got on like wildfire.

But as comfortable as she’d grown with him in some ways, it was never without a constant fizzing awareness in her blood the moment he was near. She could sense his presence…feel his position in any room, his moods and emotions, even know where his attention was focused, all without raising her eyes to him. Whenever she did raise her eyes to see him, it was to find him exactly where she thought he was, even in the same body posture she had imagined. Never had she been so aware of a man before. If he happened to touch her…even just to shake her hand…it sent electricity through her body.

Worst of all, there were moments when she could have sworn—if she were anyone else, like, a beautiful woman closer to his age, for instance—that he had…well, perhaps even a small glimmer…of attraction to her. It was just fleeting moments, occasionally, when their eyes would meet, she would see an extra touch of tenderness in his gaze, or even something…moving behind his eyes. But she had dismissed it. It wouldn’t be improper, not totally, if he did have feelings. He was unmarried after all, with no current steady girlfriend. And she was twenty-two, so she was a grown adult, albeit a lot younger than he was.  While she had always liked older men, she had a hard time envisioning that they would like her back. She wasn’t a sophisticated or sexy woman. She was more of an awkward nerdy type. Not the kind of _femme fatale_ that would attract a man like William Lamb, who, with his devastating good looks could have his pick of any woman on the face of the Earth.

And then the dreams had begun. They had been slowly forming since the earliest time of their acquaintance, beginning like a walk in the park, or working side by side in a trench. But every once in awhile, they’d share a look, or a touch, and then came the dream where he’d kissed her. His kiss alone had rocked her world that night. And things had progressed from that point forward, until finally he had spread his coat on the soft, deep green grass of her dreamscape, and she’d laid upon it naked. He’d risen up over her in her dream’s eye, his own clothes gone, a dark mountain of a man, gloriously formed, and made love to her so sweetly, whispering words of love in her ear until she’d come violently and waken to find the orgasm, if nothing else, had been real.

Facing him the day after that had been humiliating. His brow had creased, his eyes dancing with amusement and puzzlement as she’d stumbled over every word she’d said to him that day, and jumped out of her skin if he came near her until even he, with his impeccable manners and ability to overlook her awkwardness, had been obliged to ask if she was okay.

Indeed in that moment, she half thought—she could have sworn—he knew all about it. Maybe he could read it in her eyes. But her instinct had screamed that it was more than that.

Had he been having similar dreams? She’d wondered wildly. There had been moments since then—more embarrassing morning afters—where she could have sworn he was. Where her crazy imagination actually half-thought that maybe they’d even shared the dream, and he’d been in there with her.

But it was all so crazy!

She threw her head back in exasperation. What was happening to her? She hadn’t gone looking for this, and yet…she was…bordering on obsession, she was sure. Or insanity, one or the other.

Then had come the day she’d been so tired that she’d looked at him and could have sworn…he had wings.

They were like a shadow, looming up large over his back…a ghostly after image…but she had seen them. And she couldn’t shake the vision. Then that night had been the first night he’d shown them to her in her dream, wrapping her delicately inside of them, cradling her as if she would shatter without them, as his eyes flashed quicksilver at her, shimmering like a rainbow--all colors, all at once. And he was beautiful, alien. And completely irresistible.

And that’s when the double visions had begun everywhere. And not all of them were as pleasant an experience.

She’d walked down the street only yesterday and bumped into a reasonably good looking young man, who suddenly in the same, ghostly afterimage, had the head and stumpy limbs of a rhinoceros standing on two legs. She’d stared hard, and he’d given her a curious look—as if he knew what she was seeing and was angry about it. It had unsettled her, but by the time she’d hurried home she’d seen a dozen more stumpy looking rhinoboys, and a few other alarming things as well.

And last night, she could have sworn that the dark shadows beyond the streetlights…moved. Like the blob. Like an inky, living darkness…malevolent, waiting, and….

Hungry.

Yup. She was losing her mind. There was no question about it.

She turned abruptly from the window, shaking off her insanity as best she could. It was nearly dawn, and time she got ready for her day.

She had some shopping to do today before heading to the university. She’d promised a colleague of hers in the Ancient Languages Department that she’d go looking for a rare book he wanted. Christian MacKeltar was another enigma in her world. She had not known such astoundingly good looking men existed or she’d have made a bee-line for Ireland a lot sooner! But actually, Christian was a Scot. Every tall inch of him was perfection.   And unlike Dr. Lamb, Christian was much closer to her in age.  One whole year older as a matter of fact, which made him all of twenty-three.  He was broad shouldered and muscled, had dark hair, tiger-gold eyes and a killer smile that cut straight through a girl’s heart—or would do, if the girl in question hadn’t already apparently given it elsewhere.

Christian had long ago given up asking her out with a good grace. They’d become friends though, sharing a pint now and again, with the understanding, as Christian had put it, that whenever she gave up on Dr. Lamb, he’d be waiting.

The book, apparently, was at a rare book store on the other end of the Temple Bar District called Barrons’ Books and Baubles.

“The owner is a horse’s arse,” Christian had said, in his broad Scots accent, “But he runs a fine store. If anyone in Dublin has this, it will be Barrons. Just..watch yerself, lass. He’s a lot more dangerous than Dr. Lamb, aye? Try not to catch his eye while ye’re there.”

“Then why don’t you go—you’re obviously immune.”

“Aye. But I—cannae go there,” he said simply, drinking from his pint. “In fact, its imperative that ye dinnae give him my name, lass,” he’d looked at her with deadly earnest. “But just…be yer charming and sweet self, and surely ye’ll be fine. If I thought you to be in any real danger, I’d never send you.”

It had been an odd sort of request to make, she’d reflected later. And a cryptic sort of warning. How could a bookstore, after all, be dangerous?

*    *     *

Victoria showered, dressed, did her make up, breakfasted and was out the door by 7 am, determined to get an early start. Temple Bar was calm by this hour, very few people around…other than at the bar across the street from her flat called Chester’s. There was never a lapse there. People came and went all the time, and always there was a pulsing life about the place that was almost unnatural. Definitely not her sort of place, that.

She found Barrons’ Books and Baubles on the very edge of Temple Bar, a tall, gleaming, multi-storied building surrounded by old-world style pillars and gleaming brass accents that promised it to be a sort of magic place, especially for book nerds like her. Beyond this opulent shrine to the printed word, though, was an oddly abandoned neighborhood that gave her a bad vibe. How could such a nice place exist next to such a run down area, she wondered? Back home a place like this would have been vandalized into oblivion if it had been planted next to such a seedy neighborhood. But she guessed drug dealers and underworld types had a better place to hang out in Dublin then next to this bookstore.

The sign declared the store to be open, so she walked in with a tinkle of tiny bells over the door, announcing her presence. There was a counter with no one behind it, and a vast world of books beyond.

She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

She hadn’t realized how large the place was when standing on the curb. The ceiling was at least four stories high, and painted with a mural she couldn’t even see properly. It felt vast, much larger than it appeared to be, but Victoria just supposed it was a matter of internal architecture, giving it that sensation. Three or four stories of books with rolling ladders extended everywhere, and on the ground floor, little snugs of furniture, and carpets, and even a fireplace, invited one to stay and read. It was beautiful. Beautiful enough to bring tears to the eyes.

“May I help you?” A cultured voice asked from behind her.

Directly behind.

Victoria jumped and spun at the same time. She hadn’t realized anyone was there. She looked up. And up again.

To a pair of obsidian eyes in a darkly chiseled face, half obscured in shadows, above an exquisitely tailored Italian suit.

“Oh I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were there. I guess I was just lost in…” she gestured helplessly, “All of this.”

“You have never been here before.” It was a statement.

“No! Never! Though if I had known about it, I would have been here sooner! I’ve never seen such a beautiful bookstore before!”

The man gave no indication that he appreciated her compliment. “Who are you?”

She blinked at him. “My name is Victoria Alexander. Why do you ask?”

“I make it my business to know everyone who enters my establishment.”

“You’re Barrons, like on the sign?”

"Jericho Barrons."

“Oh, my goodness! I was hoping to get to meet you! You have the most beautiful store I have ever seen!” She put out her hand to shake his. He didn’t take it. She blinked and put it down again. Had she somehow offended him?

“American,” he said, with narrowed eyes, his nostrils pinched as he sucked in a breath. “And no, I am not offended, Miss Alexander. Merely curious. How did you hear about my bookstore?”

Her hair prickled on the back of her neck, but she didn’t know why. Christian’s warnings made much more sense now. But he’d said she’d be safe—right? She swallowed hard.

“A friend told me. I’m looking for a rare book you see, and he said that you had the best and rarest in Dublin, and if anyone had it, you would.”

“Your friend has a name?”

“Yes but…I don’t see how that is relevant—”

“I’m very selective about who I do business with, Miss Alexander.”

“You mean you won’t sell me a book unless you approve of who sent me?”

“Depends. On the book. On the name. You want a book? Tell me who sent you.”

She didn’t know where it came from. Or why she said it.

“Dr. Lamb,” she choked out. “From Trinity. I work for him.”

He hissed in a breath, gaze sharpening on her. “You work for Lamb?” His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “And he sent you here? Are you quite sure about that, Miss Alexander? Think very carefully about how you answer me.” He was circling around her, she realized, moving with an almost animal grace. She was turning in a circle too, before she knew what was happening, unwilling for some reason she didn’t quite understand to turn her back on him, or drop contact with his glittering black gaze. “I am not a man who is patient with fools. Nor do I suffer liars. I ask you one more time, Miss Alexander. Do not be a fool. Do not prevaricate with me again. Did Lamb send you to my bookstore?”

“No,” she whispered. “I do work for him. But he did not send me. He does not know I’m here.” _Idiot!_ She clamped her mouth shut. He could kill her now, the thought occurred to her, and no one would be any the wiser. She had been so quick to absolve Dr. Lamb that she had not considered the ramifications of what she had said until after it was out of her mouth.

Barrons stopped circling, facing the door. “You are not in any danger from _me_ , Miss Alexander. It is clear to me you do not know why you are really here. What is the book that you have been requested to find?”

“Uhh…oh yeah. I have it here,” she fumbled in her purse, shaking so much she could hardly grab the piece of paper. It’s called _The Annals of the Four Masters_.”

Barrons eyes were hard as flint. “What makes you think I have one?”

"My friend said if anyone did, you would."

"Your 'friend' is misinformed."

“I suspected it was out of print,” she said. "Do you happen to know where I could find a copy?"

“Try Trinity Library."

"But...surely if the library had one, my friend would not have sent me to inquire."

"Perhaps your 'friend' had a different reason for sending you here."

"Like what?"

"How the fuck would I know? Why don't you ask MacKeltar why he sent you to my store, to ask for a book that was written in 1635 that is already present in Trinity College Library?"

She blinked again, taken aback by his information as well as his language and his rudeness. “How did you know that Christian sent me?"

"The question you should be asking is why did he lie to you to send you to my doorstep, Miss Alexander?"

"I..." her brow furrowed.

"Be sure and tell him for me that you're not my type. No woman who would ever be known to that fuck would ever be my type."

"I--what? What the heck is going on here! No..." she held up her hand dismissively. "Never mind. I don't care. I'm done. Clearly I’ve been wasting your time, and mine. I’ll not inconvenience you any further.” She hitched her purse on her shoulder with shaking hands, and headed toward the door.

“Tell me, Miss Alexander. How long have you been having dreams about Dr. Lamb?”

She froze, hand on the door. Hot shame chased a cold feeling up and down her spine as she tried to find her voice.

“What dreams?”

“I told you before,” he said, very close to her ear, “Do not prevaricate with me. Or perhaps you are too young and too American to have the vocabulary to understand me.”

“I know perfectly well what the word means,” she snapped. “Where do you get off commanding me to answer your personal questions? I don’t know you, and you’ve been nothing but rude since I walked in. I owe you nothing.”

“Had I wanted to command you, Miss Alexander, you’d know it. I prefer to give you a choice, considering your relative innocence in this matter. Especially considered your affiliation with Christian MacKeltar and William Lamb. And as far as what you owe me, I’d say a great deal, because despite MacKeltar’s bungling attempt to spy on me through you, I’ve decided to spare his cowardly life. For now. But tell him not to fuck with me again in future or I won't. And as for you, Miss Alexander, I will extend a further courtesy, in the form of a warning. You have unwittingly stumbled into a world you know nothing about here. The danger to yourself is greater, and your dreams about him are hardly innocent.  In fact, your association with Lamb is more deadly than you can possibly imagine. My advice to you is to get out. Leave him, leave Dublin. While you still can.”

She turned to face him questioningly, and he whistled low.

“If it is not too late already.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“How much do you know about the Tuatha Dé Danaan?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question? We were talking about Dr. Lamb, and how he's apparently a threat to me, I believe.” She crossed her arms over her chest.  He was really beginning to get up her nose.

“Do you always deflect an answer by asking another question? My guess is you know far too little, because you are not nearly scared enough.”

“What do you know about these Too-ah Day Danahn, then?”

“Enough to know that you’re in way over your head, Miss Alexander. Go home. Before you get sent home in a box. The longer you stay here, the more likely the latter outcome becomes.”

"So now you're threatening me?"

"No. I'm warning you. I'm not the one who will kill you, or get you killed. Stay away from Lamb. And way the hell away from that fuck, MacKeltar. And stay away from me too. I don't need or want any complications."

Victoria stepped closer to him, right up in his space. So close she was almost touching his electric body all down the length of him. His physique was gorgeous, large and overwhelmingly male, as some distant point of her brain had the gall to point out.  So what if he was pretty.  He was  a grade-a asshole.  And she had never been so infuriated in all her life.  "Trust me, I don't want to be any where near you. You can keep your beautiful bookstore, and all your patronizing little warnings, and shove them up your own backside. You have no need to worry about me cramping your style," she said with quiet fury, wishing for all the world she was tall enough to stare him straight in the face--it was hard to intimidate someone when your nose came to their breastbone, after all, but she did her dead-level best anyway. "I don't _want_ to have anything to do with you, I'm only standing here right now because _you_ got in _my_ way. Now. Kindly let me pass, or do you intend to tie me up and kidnap me to prove the point that you don't want me around?"

He stared at her without moving for a long, protracted moment, so deadly still that he reminded Victoria of a snake about to strike. Then time started up again and he stepped out of the way and made her an ironic bow, as she marched with all the dignity she could muster out of the door. She couldn't bring herself to slam it--it was too beautiful. It wasn't the door's fault, or the bookstore's, that the owner was such a prick.

"Horse's arse indeed," she muttered under her breath as she put as much distance between herself and that horrid man as she could.

Still, he'd done her damage today. She was thoroughly rattled, and as she headed back towards the university, his questions ringing in her head. What the hell? How had he known about her dreams? How had he known she was lying? How had he known it was Christian who’d sent her? Where the hell did he get off threatening her, and insulting her and...and what the devil had she seen glittering in his eyes the moment she'd menaced him back?  Who the heck were the Tuatha Dé Danaan, and what did they have to do with anything?

And why oh why, did he have to warn her to stay away from Dr. Lamb?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Notes about the Fever world for my Vicbourne friends~~
> 
> Here we meet a few very important characters from the Fever novels: 
> 
> Jericho Barrons--a central figure and actually the main love-interest in the Fever world for the main character, MacKayla Lane, who will not be featured here. 
> 
> Barrons Books and Baubles--another main character (yes, it is a character, as well as a setting) in the books. 
> 
> Christian MacKeltar--also another important Fever character. His story actually begins in KMM's previous Highlander series, but he appears here as he did in the start of Fever, working in the Universities Ancient Languages department.
> 
> Chester's also gets a passing mention...its not insignificant that poor Victoria's flat is across the street from it. It is another central location and important setting in Fever. One could make the case it is a character too, just like the BB&B.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some familiar faces make an appearance here. :)

Chapter 3

 

A few blocks away from the bookstore, Victoria gave up walking and hailed a cab, instructing the cabbie to drive her to the university. Her interview with the proprietor of Barrons’ Books and Baubles had taken up far more time than she had anticipated. She was almost late for her rendezvous with her friend, Emma. What was worse, she had to stop back by her apartment and gather her things, and Dash. Today was the first day of her first major dig for Trinity University, and it was on the other side of the country near Maigh Cuilin, which was a fair distance away from Dublin.  So, they would be tenting it for the next few days. She needed her gear, and of course she couldn’t leave little Dash to fend for himself.

The fact that Dr. Lamb would be out there on the dig as well, she pushed from her mind. There was plenty of work to be done. And that was far more important than anything else, she told herself firmly.

Emma was older than she was at least by ten years, maybe longer.  Having left off her studies early on to get married and have a family, she was returning to school now to follow her life-long dream and major in archeology. The two greeted each other and, after stopping by Victoria’s flat to pick up her things and her dog, they set off for Maigh Cuilin in Emma's car.

“Well, can you believe it? We’re finally doing it,” Emma said as they left the city of Dublin behind. “Your first real dig. Are you excited?”

“I am. This is what I came to Ireland for, after all. The opportunity to make a major discovery of my very own.”

“Or to stand by and watch as Dr. Lamb turns up gold again?”

“Either way, it will be very exciting.”

“Yes, I daresay it will be,” her friend gave her a sly look. “In more ways than one, perhaps?”

“What exactly are you implying?”

“Nothing at all. I mean after all, he is a very handsome man, even if he’s a bit older than you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being older.”

“True enough. For some men in particular, age makes them…well, sexier. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Emma…my relationship with Dr. Lamb is strictly professional.”

“Of course it is. Still. It doesn’t mean you don’t have eyes, does it?”

“Please…stop.” Victoria couldn’t help smiling.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how gorgeous he is.”

“Emma, you’re married!”

“I know. But I have eyes too.”

They both giggled.

“And so does he,” Emma again looked askance at her.

“I have noticed.”

“How could you not? They’re as green as Ireland herself.” She paused, and Victoria said nothing. “Have you also happened to notice which way his eyes tend to drift more times than not?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Oh come on! Don’t play coy with me. I can tell you’ve noticed, your face is as red as a beet.”

“Emma, he doesn’t look at me like that. I’m just his assistant, I’m sure I am. He’s so glorious and so successful he could have anyone he wanted along those lines.”

“So he could.” Emma grinned. “And what if he wanted you?”

“He doesn’t.”

“If you say so.” She turned her smirk back to the road. “Still. What do you want to bet he has an extra large tent for the weekend? Or even a caravan?”

“You are terrible!  A tent would be larger than most caravans, and more commodious than some I've seen.  What passes for an RV in this country is crazy small.”

“Hmm, I’ll tell him you said that, so that he can plan accordingly for next time.”

“You will do no such thing!”

“Still. Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t choose this weekend to make his move.”

Victoria sputtered with mirth. “I can’t see Dr. Lamb ‘making a move’ on me! You’re not really suggesting he would try to kiss me behind the spoils pile?”

“You never know. We shall have to see.”

"You are insane," Victoria said, and both women laughed.

Within a few hours, they had arrived at the dig sight.  It was an ancient hill fort--or supposed to be.  Surrounded on all sides by dense trees.  It would take a little hiking to get to where the team had set up in preparation. 

They parked a little ways off, grabbed their gear and Dash and presently, had joined the team in a little cleared area deep inside the forest.

The first one to spot them was Harriet and her boyfriend Ernst. Harriet was an experienced excavator with a particular expertise in pottery shards. Ernst was a poly-sci major that had volunteered to help with the manual parts of the digging so he could be near to Harriet. There were other couples present as well—Nancy, an anthropology major, and her boyfriend Frank, who owned his own catering business but had also volunteered to help out the dig. Mina, who was an expert in ancient Irish cultures and Alfred, who was a student in one of Dr. Lamb’s archeology classes, who had a fine eye for detail and was very handy with excavating finds that were delicate and difficult to unearth. There was also Mr. Penge, who was in charge of geo-phys, and Brodie, his assistant. Robert Peel was operating the big digger that was responsible for laying in the trenches, and lastly, there was Albert, who would be in charge of sifting, sorting and cataloging their finds, and the odd bit of metal-detecting as needed.

Victoria groaned inwardly as Albert spotted her and came over to say hello. Would he ever take a hint and leave her alone?

Emma gave her a look as she went off to greet the gang, leaving her alone with the clockwork undergraduate.

“Victoria! I am glad to see you have come.”

“Hello Albert,” she said stiffly. “Where’s Ada?”

“Oh. She has been delayed but she will be coming later.”

Unlike Victoria, Ada was very taken with Albert. She was a mathematics major but had volunteered to come on the dig and help Albert go through the spoils piles.

“You…have had a pleasant drive, I trust?”

“Yes we did. Um…would you excuse me? I have to walk Dash. He’s been cooped up all this time in the car and he needs to be let out.”

“Of course,” he said, dropping his head. “I have work to attend to anyway. I guess I’ll see you around.”

Victoria breathed a sigh of relief and took off for the campsite. She offloaded her pack in an empty section—she’d have to construct the tent later—and bent to let Dash out of his carrier. Once she’d clipped him with a lead, she went off a bit to find a secluded place to let him do his business.

“Here you are.” A voice like velvet brushed her skin from behind her, and made her almost shiver. “I ran into Emma, and she said she’d brought you, but I hadn’t seen you yet.”

She turned around and smiled at Dr. Lamb as he approached.

He was truly beautiful today, wearing a black t-shirt underneath a bottle green denim jacket and black wash jeans. She swallowed hard and looked away from his mesmerizing green eyes, the same color as his jacket.

“Dash needed a walk I’m afraid,” she said by way of explanation. “I was just about to come and find you.”

“Well, it looks as if I’ve saved you the trouble then,” he smiled at her. “So. Our first dig,” he said, his eyes fixed on her in a way she was glad Emma wasn’t around to see.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said truthfully. “It’s very exciting to finally be out in the field.”

“Its very exciting to have you here,” he agreed, not taking his eyes from her face. “There’s so much I want to show you, you know,” he whispered, his eyes dropping to her mouth and moving back up to her eyes in a way that made her pulse race.

“I can’t wait to see it all, Doctor.”

“William,” he whispered. “I would prefer it if we drop the formal terms in the field. It’s such a mouthful you know, to always be saying Dr. Lamb this and Dr. Lamb that. William is much simpler.”

“If you don’t think it’s too informal,” she said, doubtfully.

“No,” he said taking a step nearer. “Not too informal at all.”

There was something in his eyes then…something that reminded her of her dreams about him. She quickly dropped her gaze and coughed awkwardly.

“So,” he said, breaking the moment, “This is Dash, is it?”

“Yes,” she smiled as Dash came wagging his whole backside towards Dr—William, she corrected.

William reached out a hand and let Dash sniff him, then ruffled his ears affectionately. “Hallo there, Dash. You look after your mistress well, I expect.”

Victoria stood there and smiled. It warmed her heart to see anyone pay attention to her dog, but with William, he took it more seriously than most. The more William petted him, the more oddly vocal Dash became, barking and vocalizing in what was almost…speech.

“Yes, I know…you do an admirable job…simply admirable…yes she is…I’m sure you do adore her. Indeed, who could not?” He raised his green eyes to her, lashes fanning out in a near approximation of an innocent expression, and blinked at her winningly.

Victoria felt the heat creeping up her neck. Was he…flirting with her? No wonder he had such a reputation, she thought. He was good. Very, very good. And with his looks he didn’t even need to be.

It wasn’t fair. No man should be allowed to be so attractive. It put a girl at a distinct disadvantage.

All the damned time.

Even though it was a brisk, autumn day, the morning turned somewhat…warmer. The sun was brighter, and the grass beneath them was a deep, cool green. The tree above her head had…flowers on it.

_Wait, what?_

“That’s a bit odd,” she said, looking up.

“What is?” William said, still ruffling Dash’s fur and gazing at her through all-too-innocent eyes.

“Its October. Most of the trees are turning colors and dropping leaves. This one is blooming like it’s late Spring.”

“Huh. Would you look at that,” he said. “I wonder how that could have happened.”

The fragrance from the blooms on the tree suddenly seemed to burst open, and wafted over Victoria like a little slice of honey-suckle drenched heaven, as she turned her eyes back to William.

Honey-suckle did not grow on trees.

“What?” she crossed her arms.

“What what?” He blinked at her, batting long eyelashes over eyes even wider and more innocent, if such a thing was possible.

“You know what what.”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“Honey-suckle doesn’t grow on trees.”

“So it doesn’t.”

“Why does the air suddenly smell like it?”

“I dunno. Must be a vine somewhere.”

She narrowed her eyes. He still had wings, if she concentrated on his back hard enough. They were currently folded behind him and dragging their long tips on the grass. 

She was officially going mad.

“Why do I get the impression that you know something about this tree and are not telling me about it?” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I dunno. Why do you get that impression? What an extraordinary notion, don’t you think, Dash? Hmm…Dash says you have many extraordinary notions.” He said affectionately to her dog, scratching him under his chin and getting his face licked for his trouble.

Victoria had a momentary stab of envy. What she wouldn’t give to lick him up the face like that…

At that moment, his eyes caught hers and he smiled, a great devilish smile that gave her the uncomfortable sensation that he knew exactly what she had just been thinking. For a moment, she was held suspended in his gaze, and in their green depths she saw again the things he’d done to her last night in her dream, the same expression as he’d wrapped those mighty, feathery dark wings around her and…

She coughed and dropped her eyes, feeling her face flame.

William, with a final pat of farewell, stood again from his conversation with Dash. She could feel his every move. Feel the soft fabric of his clothing whisper as it slid around his body. Feel his wings stretch and refold themselves more comfortably. She felt him come closer. She felt suddenly lightheaded. Dizzy. She knew what he looked like under those clothes. Knew how large he was…how glorious his body looked and felt…the heat of his kisses everywhere on her…the texture of his lovely wings caressing her naked skin…

She wanted him. Here and now. And would have happily raised her shirt over her head and tossed it onto the lush grass, followed by her bra, her jeans and panties. In fact her clothing was beginning to chafe, and where it brushed against her more sensitive areas she felt…she felt…they were an unbearable torture device, rubbing and rubbing where she wanted him to rub her…where she needed to feel him instead…

She wanted him to take her. Here on the grass, there against that stupid tree. Anywhere.  Everywhere.  And if someone were to come around the corner and see them so what because he would be in her and all around her and—

“Are you all right?”

“What?” she snapped to attention, waking as if out of a trance to find him very near her, his hands on hers, and hers on the hem of her shirt.

“Oh!” she dropped her hands as if scalded. “I uh…uh…” _Oh my God_ , she thought, _did I just flash him_? She had no memory of the last few moments, so gone was she in her lustful visions. She wet her dry lips. They felt plumper than usual.

He dropped his eyes from her, but not before she saw amusement dancing in them. “It is unusually warm out here, don’t you think? Perhaps we should…make our way back to camp, hmm?”

“Uh…sure. Come on, Dash! Heel!” She could feel her face burning, but as usual, he was too well mannered to mention it.

* * *

He shouldn’t have done that to her, he really shouldn’t.

But she was so delightfully cute and awkward when she was embarrassed that he couldn’t help himself. He found himself turning up the volume on the _Sidhba-jai_ ever so slightly, to indulge himself in the small pleasure of watching her lust after him. Just a little…not enough to sear her…not yet. And not enough to embarrass her completely. Just enough for her to taste the pleasure that would be hers soon. Very soon, he thought, as he walked next to her.

An eon of living among humans had taught him much about them. They needed prelude. Foreplay. Flirtation. It was part of what made sex so completely fulfilling for them, and that, in turn, fulfilled him.

For he had learned something his brethren had never quite understood. Any Fae Prince could turn a woman _pri-ya_ —use the _Sidhba-jai_ with ruthless effectiveness to make her a mindless, sex-starved animal, completely his forever more—or, at least as long as he wanted her before discarding her and moving on to another. But it was far more satisfying if she chose to remain his. _Pri-ya_ was not necessary, for a caring, patient lover, whom was willing to invest a little time in bringing actual pleasure to his chosen consort, and caring about her enough to give her all the pleasure his race could bestow while protecting her from its unfortunate side effects.

Oh, pleasure was a given, after all. Fae sex was far stronger than anything the human race had ever been intended to experience. One taste was usually enough to make them addicted to it. But long ago, he had discovered the much greater, more satisfying addiction was not sex, but love. And the love he felt for one woman in particular that had extended down through the ages still burned brightly in his memory. So brightly.

He let Victoria walk ahead of him a little, so that he could have the pleasure of watching her move while alone with his thoughts.

She was back.

The woman he’d loved for so many millennia had returned again. Finally.

And this time, he would not let her go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've sufficiently explained some additional Fae attributes in text this time. It is worth mentioning perhaps that the Sidhba-jai is a very dangerous business indeed. In the Fever world, a Fae can use this to lethal effect, and a Fae who can not control it can be even more lethal. Dr. Lamb is being very gentle here. Very gentle indeed...
> 
> Actually in the story, Mac calls the royal castes a "Death-by-sex Fae." They can literally...yeah. Like it says. Or not, as they choose. 
> 
> Also...it should be noted the very powerful Fae can affect the weather with their pleasure or displeasure, pleasure is usually manifested in summer-like weather/characteristics, and displeasure in wintery effects. Just so you know. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens....
> 
> As Dr. Lamb leads his field team on their latest dig, other forces gather their strength and plot their next moves. He too seems to be plotting his next move, especially as regards his assistant...

Chapter 4

 

“So what are my marching orders?” Victoria called over her shoulder, trying to lighten the mood and shake off…whatever it was that happened to her back there. Her mind was in a turmoil of trying to remember if she’d actually raised up her shirt or just thought she had…or maybe just thought about doing it. Though Dr. Lamb was too generous and gentlemanly to ever mention it to her, it nagged at the edge of her mind. With a firm resolve, she shoved the idea away from herself, into a dark corner to think about later. Now though, she had a job to concentrate on.

“Planning my girl, planning. I need you in the command tent, stat.”

“Right. I’ll be there as soon as I get…my…tent…” she stopped. “Wait a minute…oh!” Someone, in her less than ten minute absence, had constructed her tent for her, and even unpacked her gear and set it up inside. She ducked under the flap to see for herself. Everything was there and in order.

“What is it?”

“Someone has…set everything up for me already.”

“Indeed? Good! That means we can get started right away. C’mon.” William winked, and she followed him back to the command tent, one eyebrow raised. Emma fell into step beside her and cast a glance at William’s retreating back before looking back at Victoria.

“So,” Emma whispered, “Do you know he never even said hello to me today, before asking me straight away about you? Then he turned on his heel and went charging after you, as if he couldn’t wait to see you.”

Victoria looked askance at Emma, her heart pounding. Could it be true?

“Emma…” Victoria said carefully, watching the ghostly afterimage of William’s wings lift and spread, flap once, and then fold themselves up again, “Who put my tent together?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see.”

“Did anyone see?”

“Not unless he wanted them to.” Emma gave her a knowing smile, waggled her eyebrows at Victoria, flicked her eyes back to William’s back.

“Are you sure?” Victoria whispered.

“Who else could it have been?”

“But he was with me the entire time!”

Before Emma could respond, they had drawn up to the command tent.

“Right, gather round everyone!” William took a stand in the middle of the table, upon which was a topographical map of the area. “We are here to determine whether or not we have an actual, never-before-excavated hill fort, and if we do, to assign an approximate date to it. Further, we have reason to suspect that there may be a souterrain, or a hidden passage, as well, in which case, we might be looking at some pretty interesting finds if we can locate it. We are authorized to dig and to excavate certain artifacts, but not over too extensive of an area. So we shall have to be strategic about where we place our trenches and divide up the labor. Now. Ada is off to the local village to see if she can’t scare up some unskilled labor volunteers to help us with some of the less-specialized tasks. The more boots on the ground we have, the faster we can make progress. And quite honestly, we don’t have all the time in the world so the more the merrier.”

He looked around the team, eyes shining with excitement in a way that made Victoria catch her breath. As if he read her thoughts, he met her eyes, and grinned. Then his gaze lowered back to the map on the table.

“Mr. Penge, we are going to need the geophysical survey to run from here, to here, and cover this entire area before we will know where we want to place our trenches.”

“Well, Dr. Lamb, about that, Sir. You see, the rocky terrain is going to make running the equipment very difficult,” Mr. Penge said in his usual slow, dour way.

Victoria had to hide her face behind a curtain of her hair. Mr. Penge, she always thought, had quite missed his calling. With his long face and mournful tones, he should have been an undertaker. But then, that might have required some work, and that was firmly against Penge’s religion.

William’s eyes danced as he regarded the somber Mr. Penge.

“I don’t care if it’s bloody impossible,” he said cheerfully. “I want it done and done now. Is that understood?”

“But the wheels, Professor, will not traverse this rocky ground, and the ground penetrating radar equipment is most delicate. Every skip of the wheel jars the equipment. Not only does that run the risk of breakage—which is a very expensive business—but it also results in extremely poor rendering of the underground data, making it virtually impossible to tell what is actually present, and with any degree of certainty as to depth.”

William nodded, absorbing this information, then stepped closer to Mr. Penge. “You did, of course, bring the electromagnetic conductivity instruments, as you were instructed to do? The reason being that it, unlike the GPR equipment, does not need to be in direct contact with the ground to get an accurate reading. Therefore the rocky terrain is no hindrance.”

Penge’s face looked pained. Victoria couldn’t help but giggle when Alfred, standing next to her, elbowed her and whispered, “But the fact that it is not connected to wheels, but to Penge’s back on a harness, is of great hindrance to Penge.”

“How much d’you want to bet he has Brodie out there doing it?” She whispered back.

“No bet. Not until Dr. Lamb gets wind of the fact that poor Brodie is having to huff it all over this area by himself carrying all that kit on his back, and that’s why his data’s late.”

“It could be Penge’s last expedition.”

“Hopefully.”

“Of course Professor,” Penge said with a smile that looked liked it had been tacked open on his face with needles.

“Good. Let’s get cracking on that, shall we? We need that information to know where we are going to put in our trenches.”

“Are there any special areas of interest?”

Victoria hid behind her hair again as Alfred whispered, “…so that I can do as little actual work as necessary?”

“Stop it,” Victoria whispered.

“All of it. I want this entire field surveyed.” Dr. Lamb smiled broadly.

“Certainly Professor. Brodie!”

“No no no, I need Brodie on a special assignment.”

Alfred almost lost it. Victoria elbowed him severely in the ribs as Penge’s face lost all color.

“Special…assignment?”

“Yes. So you’ll take care of this bit, while Brodie works with me. Chop chop. We need data! Daylight’s burning!”

“Certainly, Professor.”

Penge wandered off looking slightly green around the gills.

“Now that’s underway, pay attention, Team. Of course, we won’t make any moves until we get confirmation back from geo-phys. But it’s entirely possible we’re going to need at least three trenches, in an area this size, perhaps four. I was thinking that we’d put one here, and one over here, and lastly, one…over here.”

“Wait, why over there?” Piped up Albert. “That is not even in the geo-phys area.”

“Not in Penge’s survey area, no. But Brodie’s already working on it for me. It will be geo-phys’d properly, have no fear. We won’t put so much as one spade in the ground that we do not have justification for doing so.”

“But…why over there?” Albert persisted. “The hill fort is clearly here, and that area is far removed from the main site.”

“Because if I’m right about the souterrain, then the underground chamber will be somewhere in this vicinity. And if it were used as a storage facility for valued goods, it may be worth excavating for artifacts. So—Harriet. Your team will dig somewhere near this outer wall, here. And Emma and Alfred’s team will be here, closer to the inner courtyard, and Albert will set up a station central to those areas for spoils, metal detecting and sifting.  And Victoria and I will take this trench here.” He pointed to the most distant trench location, and met her eyes…with a look he didn’t even bother to hide.

Victoria felt her face flame. Briefly she saw Emma’s shocked gaze fly to William’s face before turning her eyes to her shoes. Albert was staring at Dr. Lamb through narrowed eyes until he turned on his heel and strode away, Ernst trailing after him.

The tent was utterly silent. No one remaining in the tent seemed even to be breathing. Victoria met William’s eyes then. And what she saw burning there set her heart to racing.

It was Emma who finally broke the spell. “But…Wi--Doctor Lamb, that site is so remote, it might make it hard for you and Victoria to return safely to camp in the evening.” Emma said, concern in her eyes.

“Quite right. Which is why Victoria and I will pull up stakes and remove closer to the trench sight first thing tomorrow morning.”

 

* * *

 

“Tell me why the f--- we’re out here again.”

“Because Miss Alexander is out here,” Barrons growled.

“I have a business to run,” Ryodan ran a distracted hand through his dark brown hair. “Or have you forgotten that.”

“Lor is in charge. He knows what to do.”

Ryodan snorted derisively. “Besides every big-boobed blond in Chesters you mean.” Ryodan didn’t ask questions. It was a particular verbal idiosyncrasy he’d found useful. It put people on the defensive, took them off guard. Put him in control of the conversation.

He liked control.

He frowned. So did Barrons, so did they all. And Barrons always called the shots. Always had, always would.

“He knows his part to play, and he’ll play it. Or he’ll pay the consequences.” Barrons glanced at him. “I need you here.”

“He’s probably at it right now, in my bloody office, with that waitress who started in the tuxedo club last week. He’s been drooling over her ever since.”

“Probably,” Barrons concurred.

“If he’s on my desk, I”ll kill the f---,” Ryodan growled, shaking his head. Chesters was his place. His domain. It was a nightclub to end all nightclubs, filled with sub-clubs on multiple levels that served every kind of human appetite.

And some nonhuman ones as well.

But only a select few people knew the difference. The Fae cast a glamour—a kind of illusion—that made them look human. Only certain people had the ability to see through a Fae’s glamour to their true form: they could, of course. He and Barrons and Lor and the rest. But they were not exactly normal either. The only others who could see through the illusion were _sidhe-seers_ \--gifted, human women who were born with the ability not only to see the Fae, but also with various other related talents and gifts that were damned handy in a fight. And lately, the numbers of Fae in the city had grown exponentially. A fight was coming. He could feel it. Smell it.

_Bring it on._

“You’re so sure about this woman?”

“If I wasn’t, would we be out here?” Barrons gave him a dour look. “She’s working for Lamb.”

“Ah,” said Ryodan. “Well, then.  Isn't that interesting.  Define ‘working.’”

Barrons scowled at the road ahead.

“I’ll be damned,” said Ryodan, narrowing his silver eyes to squint at Barrons.

“You are. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“So she’s working. On her back or on all fours, do you think.”

“Shut the f--- up.”

Ryodan laughed. “Tell me you haven’t dragged me all the way out here just because you want to f--- a woman who is f---ing a Seelie Prince, and is probably halfway to Pri-ya by now.”

“I. Said. Shut. The f---. Up.”

“She’s not the only woman in Dublin.”

“She is the only woman in Dublin who can lead us to the D’Jai Orb,” Barrons snarled. “That is why we are out here.”

“You think Lamb knows where it is.”

Barrons turned and gave him a wry look. “He ought to. He was the f--- who put it wherever it is.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying.”

Barrons gave him a look.

Ryodan whistled. “I’ll be damned.”

“You are. We’ve covered this.”

“And that’s why so many Fae relics are being discovered at his dig sites.”

“It’s easy to know where to dig if you were the one who buried the treasure to start with.”

“The D’Jai Orb is an object of immense Fae power.”

“Crafted by Prince D’Jai himself, founder of the house of D’Jai, one of the oldest of the four royal houses of the Seelie.”

“So you believe that Lamb is D’Jai.”

“D’Jai disappeared from the Seelie Court so long ago that he has drifted out of even the Fae’s memory. Not even the Queen remembers him. It is said he was a contemporary of the Unseelie King. All we really know about him is that he sired Adam Black, who until recently was called the _sin siriche dubh_ , the black elf, because he preferred a darker glamour than his golden brethren.”

“I seem to remember we’ve encountered him before.”

Barrons nodded once.  “Rumor has it that Adam Black, after single-handedly wreaking havoc throughout history with his meddling in human affairs, has recently fallen in love with a human woman, and begged the Seelie Queen to make him fully human.”

Ryodan whispered. “How the mighty have fallen.”

“He too has seemingly retired from the affairs of his former people. Much like his father.”

“D’Jai.”

Barrons stroked his face thoughtfully. “But the story goes that D’Jai also fell in love with a human, and was driven mad when she died.”

“Mad enough to leave the Seelie Court…and craft the Orb.”

“He must have been on Earth all this time. Hiding as human. Biding his time.”

“What makes you think he is Lamb.”

“Lamb is a Seelie Prince.”

“Logical fallacy. Just because he is Seelie doesn’t make him D’Jai by default.”

“No. But he’s not V’lane. Or any of the others. He doesn’t even look like them. Their glamour is always golden.”

“And Lamb casts a darker glamour—like his son.”

“But not as dark. Perhaps he prefers it because darker hair blends more with society. And brown even more so than black.”

“So a Seelie who would want to blend in, not be noticed…”

“There is no such other Seelie. They all want to be noticed. Noticed, hell! They want to be worshiped.  As well you know.”

Ryodan nodded and laughed without mirth.  “All right. It fits. I’ll give you that. So apparently do the stories of his prowess. His line of women is nearly as long as mine.”

Barrons grunted. “Which puts him firmly in third place.”

“Arrogant f--- to the last, aren’t you. At least I let mine live.”

“As do I…now.”

“Took you long enough to learn it.”

“Who died and appointed you my f---ing judge.”

“No one. No one died.”

They shared a glance of understanding, and Barrons buried his foot in the floor of the Bugatti Veyron, and the black car shot through the black night like a bullet from a gun, a deep throaty rumble of the engine the only sound.

“So let’s say for the sake of argument, that the good professor is D’Jai. What makes you think he’s about to ‘find’ the Orb.”

“She does.”

“The girl. How is she part of all this.”

“She’s Lamb’s assistant. And MacKeltar is interested in her too.”

“Lamb doesn’t have assistants.”

“Until now.”

“So, he probably just wants to f--- her. So what. Besides of course the fact that you do too, or we wouldn’t be out here now.  Orb or no orb.”

“If I wanted to f--- her I’d have done so already. She was in my bookstore. I let her walk out.”

“All right then, have it your way. So how does this girl lead us to the Orb.”

“It is said that D’Jai made the Orb for the woman he loved. In case she came back to him in a later life.”

“Ahh.”

“Yes.”

Ryodan was silent as the puzzle pieces started sliding into place.

“There’s more,” Barrons said. “They’re digging near Galway.”

“Where the Fae supposedly first landed in Ireland. So this could be it."

"Exactly."

"how do we get it.”

“The way we always do. And since MacKeltar has been sniffing around her, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that we had competition in our efforts.”

“If Lamb really is D’Jai,” Ryodan said, “our efforts may not be enough.”

“True. But the prize is an essential Object of Power. The risk is justifiable.”

“Agreed. So what is the plan.”

 

* * *

 

“I doona like this.”

Drustan MacKeltar stood, and clamped a hand on his nephew’s shoulder in understanding. “I ken that, lad. For the record, neither do we. But we have no choice in the matter.”

“Nay. The Fae relic is too strong a power source to be let loose in the world. Especially at a time like this.” Dageus added, stuffing the revolver inside his shoulder holster. “I never get used to these daft things. I prefer my sword.”

“As do I,” Drustan, his twin, acknowledged. “But we are living in a different century now, brother. A sword is nae so much good as it was when we were lads.”

“Neither will do ye good now,” Uncle Cian growled. “This is nae a battle for such weapons. Magic is all that will be needed.”

“Aye well, we have that in plenty enough,” Dageus said with an ironic lift of his brow, “and more besides.”

“I still doona understand why this is necessary,” Christian muttered.

“According to our records, the D’Jai Orb is not just another Fae relic,” Drustan began. “Some sources say as it even has elements of the Song of Making woven into it.”

“When Prince D’Jai made it for his woman, his intent was to make her Fae. Unlike the Unseelie King, who turned to experimentation, D’Jai found a way to siphon off a bit of the Song that had created the walls between our world and the Fae realms and capture it inside the Orb. So that when she touched it, the Song would make her his Princess. Forever.” Dageus added.

“But pulling at the fabric of the walls even a wee bit was not without consequences. They were greatly weakened by his tampering. This is why we have the Pact. Why our clan became the Queen’s druids, and has the responsibility each year to fulfill the Pact to keep the walls in place.” Drustan said.

“Aye. And worse…the same walls also support the Unseelie prison. If our walls go, so do theirs.” Cian added. “Then we have real problems.”

“So we are after the Orb to support the ritual then?” Christian asked.

“Aye so we are. If we can open the Orb, release the Song back into the walls…” Drustan said.

“Maybe they will stay put for good and all,” Dageus continued.

“But do we ken how to open the Orb? Harness its power and channel it to the appropriate place?” Christian asked.

“We think we do.” Cian said. “If we canna, then it canna be done. Between all of us, and the Draghar that are inside of Dageus, we should be able to find the appropriate method.”

“Ye ken I doona like stirring up the Draghar, Cian. If another method can be found, do it.” Dageus said firmly.

“And what if we get it wrong, uncles? What then?” Christian asked.

“Then we hope it’s nae booby trapped,” Drustan said cheerfully. “Else we could pay an even higher price that the collapse of the walls.”

“Doesna sound worth it, honestly,” Christian said running a hand through his hair. “Why don’t we just pay the tithe and complete the ritual as we usually do?”

“Because it is not enough anymore, Lad,” Cian said grimly. “As the walls grow thinner, the tithe each year is increased. Gold may not be enough this time. If we doona find the Orb and replace what was taken from the walls, we may have to pay the tithe with our own blood.”

“But we canna wield it! Even if we take it.”

“One thing at a time, lad. First we need to capture the thing.” Dageus said.

“Even if we canna open it, we still cannot allow such a Fae Object of Power to be loose in the world. Even if we dinna use it, the likes of Barrons might try.” Drustan said darkly. “Better it to be safe in MacKeltar hands, whether we use it or no.”

“Right. So when do we leave?” Christian said, resigned.

“Immediately,” Drustan said. “Go and kiss your mother goodbye. We’ve a long way to go. We may be gone for some time. And let's just hope that our friend Barrons hasna beaten us to the punch this time.”

 

* * *

 

“So. Why are we way out here in the boonies?” Victoria asked as she followed William through the trees, farther and farther away from the camp with the others.

“If I’m right, this is where the souterrain ends. The chamber where they would have stored their treasures for safe-keeping would be just about there. Well, underneath there.” William stopped and pointed. “Inside that copse of trees.”

The copse in question was very thick with trees, but in the center was a small clearing. Big enough for them to put in a trench…and set up camp.

“Yes. This will do very nicely,” he said, gazing around himself in a circle before allowing his gaze to come to rest on her.

Victoria swallowed hard. Her heart was beating like a hammer. She’d had a particularly detailed and erotic dream of him last night, and standing as he was in the middle of a dense grove of trees, with a shaft of light beaming down on him, setting his green gaze afire, she felt…breathless. With fear or with anticipation, it was hard to tell. But she knew in that moment that he knew. All about her dreams. More than knew…he’d somehow been the orchestrator of them all.

He flexed his wings at her and gave her a roguish smile, and her knees turned to water. She wanted him. Oh how she wanted him. For real, on this side of her dreams. And once again, her clothing began to chafe, to rub unbearably against her. It was stifling, torturous, she wanted to be free of it all. Oh, to be free…

Abruptly the sensation halted, and he was suddenly standing before her. He raised a hand and lay it over the straps of her pack.

“This looks heavy. Perhaps I can take it from you?”

She nodded mutely and he gave her a sweet smile in return, his hands gently sliding the heavy straps over her shoulders, catching the weight of the pack before it hit the ground. He hoisted it as if it weighed nothing, and dropped it at their feet, his eyes still locked with hers, standing so close to her now that their bodies were touching ever so slightly.

“There now,” he said softly. “We’ll camp here.”

She nodded, suddenly unable to find her voice.

He smiled directly into her eyes. “Shall I help you erect your tent?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Not at all.” He bent and helped her unpack while she let Dash loose from his carrier to play and take care of his business.

Working together, they had her tent up in no time, then tackled his.

“How will you oversee both camps from such a distance away?” She asked later.

“Oh, I thought Dash would make an excellent envoy, wouldn’t you, Dash?” He smiled, and the little spaniel wagged his tail and barked enthusiastically.

“He really likes you,” Victoria said, ruffling Dash’s ears affectionately.

“I usually get on well with animals.”

“As well as you do with people?”

“Better, usually,” he chuckled. “Fancy some lunch? We can scope out the area and figure out where we want our trench to be afterward.”

They sat and tucked into their field rations companionably.

“I don’t think Emma approves of our being out here alone together,” she ventured. “You certainly raised some eyebrows yesterday with your announcement.”

“You are my assistant, after all. And I need your assistance here,” he said between mouthfuls. “Emma’s fine with it. It’s your boyfriend, Albert, who doesn’t approve.” He glanced at her, green eyes dancing.

“Albert is not my boyfriend,” she said with distaste.

“Oh, but I think he’d like to be.” He glanced at her.

“If Albert wants a girlfriend, he should ask Ada. She would jump into his lap if he would let her.”

“But you would not.”

“A thousand times no.”

He chuckled. “Poor old Albert. Still. He’s not a bad-looking kid. And he’s smart, with a bright future. You could do a lot worse for yourself. Why are you so set against him?”

“I’m not set against him as a person, or even as a friend. It’s just…I don’t like him that way, and I wish he would just move on.”

“It’s not so simple as all that. Not when you’re in love.”

“He is not in love with me. He has a crush on me. I’m making it quite plain I don’t want him.”

“If it was a crush, don’t you think he would have moved on by now? It’s been months.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting I go out with Albert are you?”

“No, by no means. Just…be gentle in your rejection that’s all. I can’t imagine it’s easy for him, loving you as he does and knowing you don’t want him.” He took a long drink from his coffee and set down the mug. Not looking at her, he said, “What about Christian MacKeltar?”

“What?” She looked at him sharply. “What about him?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve been seeing a lot of him lately, I was just wondering if you…perhaps…”

“Christian is my friend,” she said, but even as she voiced it, she could hear the doubt in her voice. Why had he knowingly sent her to that dreadful man in the bookstore? It wasn’t the act of a friend, and it troubled her.

“You don’t sound too sure of that.”

“He’s asked me out, but I’ve told him no. He knows we’re just friends. He’s cool with that.”

“But you like him. Don’t you?”

“No. Not like that.” She looked up at him, met his clear green eyes with hers. _Maybe, in a universe where I’d never met you and didn’t know you existed. But now I’m afraid I’m ruined for anyone else._ She dropped her eyes and took a drink out of her own thermos of tea. “What about you?” She said, desperate to shift the conversation. “I hear you’re never at a loss for female company, Doctor. Since we’re exploring each other’s personal life, who’s the conquest of the week then?”

Victoria hid her smile behind her hair. Was he blushing?

“Victoria…it’s not like that.”

She shrugged, affecting indifference. “So you have someone serious then?”

“If you’re asking if I’m seeing anyone officially, the answer is no. But if you’re asking whether my affections are engaged, well…” he smiled at her shyly. “I’d have to say yes.”

She nodded. “You asked me about Christian. What I said was we were friends. What I didn’t say was…that if my ‘affections weren’t engaged’ already, then I probably would be dating him. But it’s hard to date someone—even someone as fantastic as Christian—when your heart is with someone else.”

“Yes. Exactly.” He smiled weakly at her. “So. Who is the lucky man? Anyone I know?” He wasn’t looking at her now, or pretending to eat. His hands were folded in his lap, his fingers laced together, his eyes studying them intently as he spoke.

_Yes. You know him very well. He’s you, you idiot._

“William, I—”

“No. Don’t answer that. It was a rude question. None of my business.” He smiled stiffly at her, but his smile couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes, and behind his back, his wings sagged. “Anyway. He’s a very lucky man. I wish you both…much happiness.”

“William—”

He cleared his throat and stood. “We’d best start figuring out where to put our trench,” he said suddenly. “Brodie’s findings were pretty clear. But I’m afraid we’ll have a bit of manual labor to put into it. It’s a few feet down and we’ll never get the digger up here.”

“William…”

He shook his head. “No. Don’t. It’s…okay I…understand.”

The day was turning chill. Victoria wrapped her parka around herself. And stood. Shaking in every limb she stood before him.

“No. It is not okay. We need to talk through this…”

“No. We don’t. Honestly I—I’m good.” He shook his head, not meeting her eyes. “I should…never have asked.”

She couldn't bear the pain in his eyes a second longer.  Hardly knowing what she was doing, and definitely not thinking about it, lest she lose her nerve, Victoria reached up, wrapped her palm around the back of his neck and, standing on her tippy toes, stretched her lips to his.

His response was instantaneous. He hissed in a deep, sharp breath, his lips beneath hers tense with shock before relaxing and opening beneath hers. A sigh escaped him as he scooped her into his arms, and she felt his wings wrap around her protectively as his lips explored hers, pressing and sucking and tugging gently. So beautifully gently.

She felt she might come apart at the seams.  Never had a man kissed her with such...patience.   There was both pledge and promise in his kiss, and a certain reverence that made her knees turn to water.  He was so beautiful.  So good.  So giving.  So...

Right.

Oh, so very, very right.

The rightness of him, of them, was bone deep.  Victoria couldn’t stop the little moan that rose in her throat. Dreams were all very well. But the taste of the real man was so much better.  She never wanted it to end.  There was something about him--something about his kiss that was almost...familiar.  She supposed it must have been the dreams.  With a sigh of pure pleasure, she pulled him closer, suddenly starving for him.  As if she'd waited all her life for this moment, and this man. 

When he released her at last, he smiled into her eyes. “I...hardly dared to hope...could you really feel that way for...me?” He whispered.

She nodded and nuzzled him. “Yes, you goof!”

"My Victoria...you have no idea how I've longed for this..."  he smiled happily and kissed her again, and the day around them grew markedly warmer.  His kiss was hard, heated, possessive, and he ended it with a groan that she felt deep in her body. “Well then,” he whispered, his eyes once again dancing, “whatever shall we do, now that we are both on the same page?"

“Dig our trench?” She whispered, her face breaking into a wide grin.

He chuckled against her cheek, nuzzling her. “You’re right of course. Business before pleasure. But later…” he nuzzled her softly and gave her a wicked grin, his eyes darkening, making her blood quicken and her breathing come in gasps.  There was so much in his eyes that she almost regretted her words. 

“Yes…” she whispered. “Later."

He chuckled deep in his throat, a low, rumbling sound like thunder, and kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes for Vicbourners:
> 
> More supporting characters from Fever here, including Ryodan and Lor (mentioned). I am leaving their identity and certain details about them, along with Barrons, deliberately obscure in this story. This is so that any Vicbourners who wish to read Fever will not have certain plot elements spoiled. Information about these guys is slowly uncovered over many books and to know upfront about them would ruin some of the experience. Actually I am using Ryodan and Barrons here to give some needed information to the audience, although being so forthcoming with information goes against their character grain for the most part. However, I can imagine that with just themselves present, they might have an actual discussion about such matters where they wouldn't if others were present, so it's not too far outside of their character norms. 
> 
> Other characters and references: 
> 
> V'lane--Seelie Prince who is a main character of Fever. 
> 
> The MacKeltar Uncles--Karen Marie Moning actually has a series that predates Fever called her Highlander Series, and the MacKeltar uncles' stories originate there, although they also feature in the Fever world as well. All three of them hail from different time periods--Drustan and Dageus (twin brothers) are at least from 400 years in the past, while Cian comes from a time much earlier, about 900 years in the past. To read more about them, check out the following books:
> 
> Drustan MacKeltar: Kiss of the Highlander  
> Dageus MacKeltar: The Dark Highlander  
> Cian MacKeltar: Spell of a Highlander
> 
> Adam Black--The notorious Black Elf features prominently throughout the Highlander books, but his book is called: The Immortal Highlander. (Adam Black, it has to be said, is one of my very favorite of KMM's characters! He's so deliciously bad!)
> 
> Other things: 
> 
> The Draghar--these are the unembodied spirits of 13 dark druids that inhabit Dageus MacKeltar. They have been exorcised for the most part, but their memories and knowledge remain inside of him. (See The Dark Highlander for more about them).
> 
> The Song of Making--the source of the Fae's power originated with the original Seelie Queen, who, by singing this song, created worlds. In the war between the Seelie Queen and the Unseelie King, she was killed before she could pass the song on to her successor, and so the song has been lost for eons. With out, the Fae's power is gradually eroding, including their control over their realms and the walls that separate those from our world. This is a major plot point and is much discussed in Fever.
> 
> The D'Jai Orb--is mentioned in Fever as well, but it's true purpose, power and the ability to harness that power have been lost. I took the liberty here of creating a story to go with the Orb that fits our characters. 
> 
> Prince D'Jai--did not exist in the stories. They refer to Adam Black as being a prince of the D'Jai house, and so again, I have taken the liberty of taking that piece of information and building my own story around it. As far as the official story goes, we do not know who Adam Black's father was. I thought though, it made a very nice little niche here.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Professor Lamb sort out some things back at the main camp, and the Professor takes a little walk down memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time coming, I know. Might want to read Chapter 4 again just to get back into the story. Sorry for the delay, but hoping to begin uploading more chapters to this tale in the next few days. It's not finished yet, but we're getting closer, hopefully, to a conclusion. :)

Chapter 5

The work that day was hard enough to distract Victoria from what had transpired between her and Professor Lamb. They dug in three different places, but William had not been satisfied with any of them, and they had yielded precious little result.

They’d finished their day by making a foray back to the other camp to sort out some conflict that had arisen between team members. Apparently, Robert Peel and Harriet, along with Ernst, had gotten into a disagreement about where the first trench should be laid, Alfred had taken Penge to task for taking his sweet time about the geo-phys, and Albert and Emma were arguing about the fact that Victoria had been sequestered to work with Dr. Lamb in such an isolated location. The argument went on so long that apparently Ada had chimed in and said if Victoria wanted to go off to work with Dr. Lamb, what business was it of Albert’s? Finally, Nancy’s boyfriend, Frank, had made a Starbucks run to town for refreshments to help settle everyone down, and had returned with pastries as well, which had helped lift everyone’s mood until the rain that had been threatening all day finally came petering down on everyone, effectively dampening even the most chipper of spirits.

Once they’d gotten it all sorted out and they began heading back to their encampment, Albert stopped Victoria with a hand on her arm.

“Victoria, it is late. Perhaps you should camp with Emma for the night.”

“Why should I do that?”

“She has plenty of room in her tent.”

“So?”

“I do not believe that Dr. Lamb has good intentions,” he said quietly. “He is known for womanizing.”

“I fail to see why that is your business.”

“Because it…I care about you, that is all.”

Victoria sighed.

“I know you do,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “But Albert…I like you as a friend. But—”

“But…you do not have any feelings for me beyond friendship.”

She nodded, and he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“And Dr. Lamb? You do have feelings for him. Don’t you?”

“I do,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Do not apologize. It is…what it is.”

“I would like for us to be friends,” she offered.

“Then as a friend, may I caution you about Dr. Lamb? There is something about him that is…different. I worry for you—out away from everyone—alone with him.”

“You are very sweet to worry. But there is no need.”

“I do not want you to get hurt,” he said. “But…please know if it doesn’t work out…I would like you to reconsider me.”

“Albert, I—no. If I say yes to that, I am leading you on. And that’s not fair to you. Don’t sit around and wait for me, okay? I want you to move on with your life. Look around you and find someone who can truly give you the kind of attention you deserve.”

He gave a sideways grin. “You mean Ada.”

“I do mean Ada. She is crazy about you, Albert. Everyone sees it but you.”

“I admit—I understand how that feels.” He looked at her pointedly.

“She’s really pretty. You can’t possibly tell me you haven’t noticed that.”

“No. I will not tell you that. You are correct. She’s…quite beautiful. But she isn’t you.”

“No. But she is herself. Why don’t you forget about me, hmm? And get to know her a bit better. I think the two of you could be very amazingly happy together.”

“So there is no chance? Even without Dr. Lamb?” His blue eyes glistened.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded, his eyes tight shut. “Thank you, I guess, for your honesty.”

“Don’t thank me. I should have told you a lot sooner. But I guess…I didn’t really know how to say it. I didn’t want to hurt you, then or now. But I guess I realized that just hinting but not telling you outright was hurting you anyway.”

“I uh…would like to wish you happiness, but…”

“I understand. I understand also if you hate me now. But if that ever changes, the door is open on my end, if you’d like to be friends someday.”

“I could never hate you, Victoria.”

“You’re a good man Albert. I am sorry, truly.”

He nodded again. “Can I…ask you for one thing?”

“Sure.”

“Can I…have a…hug? Just once to hold you in my arms…it is too much. Forget I asked.”

“It is not too much,” she said, and stepped into his arms.

Albert’s arms came slowly and tightly around her, and she felt him exhale, as if he’d been holding his breath. His face was in her shoulder at the neck, and he suddenly seemed to her like a lost little boy.

She stood still, letting him hold her, feeling somehow wretched and not knowing why. It was hello and goodbye all in one, their embrace. And she did not move until he released her on his own.

“Thank you,” he whispered, eyes lowered. “Truly. Please be careful tonight. I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but I cannot help but worry.”

“I will be fine. Now. I see Ada over there at the campfire. She looks a bit lonely to me, don’t you think? But I bet there’s a certain young man around here who could cheer her up no end if he were to go…I don’t know, sit beside her and talk?”

He laughed. “I shall try. I have kept you too long. Dr. Lamb is looking for you, I believe.”

“Here you are!” William came into the tent, smiling broadly. “Ready to go back to camp?”

“Yes I think so.” She smiled at him and they said their goodbyes. As they walked away, Victoria was happy to see Albert had indeed gone to sit next to Ada, and the two were smiling together.

* * *

They walked back to their camp in the gathering twilight, hand in hand.

It was a simple gesture, but D’Jai had found that to humans, it meant a lot. And indeed, he found it very pleasing too.

It had been a small eternity since he’d held her hand this way. As they walked, in his mind’s eye, he could see a Scottish forest, over a century ago now in human years, when he had walked with her, then an aging Queen, and he her Scottish servant. She had smiled at him, and squeezed his hand companionably.

“Why did you never hold my hand thus before, My Prince?”

He had smiled. “Because I was your Prime Minister. And you a young and impressionable Queen.”

“I longed for this,” she’d said, choking on the emotion. “God how I longed for even the simple touch of your hand in mine…Lord M.”

“Your Majesty…I am but a humble Scottish servant now. My name is Brown now…lass.”

“Stop it,” she had said, giggling like the girl he remembered. “Your accent is all wrong. You are no more Scottish than I am.”

“Well not to put too fine a point on it, Ma’am, but I’m nae human, either.”

“I should have guessed as much before, you know. No human man could ever be as wildly attractive as you have ever been—my beautiful Lord M, and my darling John Brown.”

He’d laughed. “And no Fae princess could ever equal the delights I have ever found in your arms, My Love.”

They’d walked on for some time, not speaking.

“How…many times…have we loved one another? How many lifetimes?”

“Three, counting this one.”

“Only three? In the whole of your history?”

“Yes. For the span of all three of them, I have been…happy. Content.”

“You have told me you are older than I can possibly imagine,” she said. “What of the rest of the time? Have there been…others?”

“There have been many others, yes. But since we have met that first time, long ago, never have they been more than a passing diversion. Or sought out of—great need for comfort. None of them have ever been you. None of them have ever been what you are to me.”

“What I am to you? My dearest John—and William?”

“Life itself,” he whispered. “Completion. Wholeness. Sanity. Purpose.” He turned her to face him. “Clarity. Peace. Beauty…” he leaned in to kiss her, “Meaning…home…”

“Fae Princes do not having meaning or need for such words,” she said as he caressed her throat with kisses. “To the Fae there is only stasis, and change.”

“So it was for me, before there was you.” He pulled her close, wrapped her in his wings, felt her shudder and sigh against him, “You changed everything for me. Made me feel. Made me human.”

“I could never make you what you are not,” she had said with a sad smile.

“You said yourself, to my people, there is only stasis and change. Well, before you was stasis. After you, change. My people have great ability to change themselves. If more would but realize what they so often disdain is the very thing that could be the saving of them. If they would but embrace humans and learn from them, more than just view them as objects of desire. I am living proof of that. And it is all because of you…Ma’am.”

“I wish I were still that young Queen. And you, My Lord M. I would ask you to make love to me without end” she whispered suddenly.

“I could make us so, you know. If you but wish it.”

“You can make me young again?”

“In actuality no. But I can cast a glamour that will make you appear so, even to yourself. If you would like that. And likewise I could change my glamour, and become your Lord M again. And then I would delight in making love to you for as long as you wish it.” He stroked her graying hair back from her face, and where his hand had been, her locks turned deep chestnut brown.

She took a ragged breath, and leaned into his hand.

“Oh my darling Prince. Could you really do such? Could you wear his face for me again?”

“You prefer William Lamb’s glamour to John Brown’s? I am almost jealous.”

She laughed, and the sound rippled through him with waves of pleasure. “How can you be jealous of yourself? You are one and the same.” She caressed his face lightly.

As she did so, he rearranged himself, altering his glamour to comply with her request, and soon he was smiling down at her through green eyes again, wearing the little half smile she had so adored.

She gasped, put her hand over her mouth, and then looked down at her hand, tears in her eyes.  
“Can it be true? Am I her again? That young girl who so captured your heart?”

“You had it captured long eons before, Ma’am,” he said to her in Lord M’s voice. “And yes, you are just as lovely as the first day we met.”

“And you…can it be so?” She touched his face, trembling. “My Darling Lord M?”

“Maybe I am not so much jealous,” he said, leaning into her hand with his cheek, “as much as I am dismayed you do not like my current face as much as this one.”

“I love them both,” she had whispered, touching him with her fingertips, “because they are both you.”

He’d kissed her then, drinking in her moans of pleasure. She had been trying to work up the courage to ask this of him, he knew. And now, she was once again a young woman, and he her Prime Minister that she had so loved, and who had adored the very ground she walked on. He brought her to climax with his kiss, repeatedly, enjoying using the Sidhba-jai on the one woman in all of creation that pleased him so well. Wrapping her in his wings and shielding them both with a glamour that made them invisible to any one else who may be wandering through the wood, he made love to her that day repeatedly on a bed of white orchids, loving her thoroughly and completely as her Lord M. And then he’d taken her to Faery with him, to the isle of Morar, and made love to her for a small eternity on the iridescent sand, as the turquoise water lapped at their bodies and they were kissed by the warm breeze, heavy with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood.

He had not told her, but it pleased him no end she had so loved Melbourne’s face. That was the face—the glamour—he had worn in the very beginning, when first they had met. And though it was necessary for him to change from time to time to remain with her during the natural course of her life, it was his true face, his preferred glamour.

And it was that face he wore now, two hundred years later, as Professor William Lamb, Doctor of Archeology, who walked hand in hand through this Irish wood with Victoria again, in her forth incarnation.

Forth, and therefore perfect and complete according to the ways of his people. It was so fitting therefore, that this would be the time when he would finally make her his Princess, and they should never endure the heartache of parting again.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Isle of Morar/Faery: The realms/the worlds of the Fae. Their worlds are many, and can be beautiful or terrible in equal measure, but the Seelie Court, I believe, makes its home on the Isle of Morar. One important thing to note--time moves differently in Faery than it does in our world. One hour in Faery could be months here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barrons, Ryodan and the MacKeltars parlay, meanwhile "later" has arrived for Victoria and Dr. Lamb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know if I've mentioned this or not yet, but Christian MacKeltar has a unique ability to 'hear' lies when people speak, which is why his Uncles defer to him in the first part of this chapter.

Chapter 6

 

They found the MacKeltar camp with ease.

Melting out of the night, Barrons gave Ryodan the nod, and both of them were in the camp before the Scots had time even to blink.

“Aye,” Cian, the largest and oldest of them, crossed his arms and regarded Ryodan grimly. “So you’ve come. Like the lad said ye would.”

“Let him go,” said the shorter of the twins, his hands out in supplication. “He’s no but a lad, aye? Take me instead.”

“We have no intention of ‘taking’ any of you,” Barrons said from behind the three remaining druids. He nodded to Ryodan, who stood behind Christian, one hand gripping him by the hair while the other held a knife to his throat. “We are here to discuss this situation and come to terms. If we release him, you agree to parlay. If you don’t, we cut his throat and leave. If you agree and we release him, and then in any way violate that agreement, we kill you all, take the Orb and then leave. Understood?”

“You and what army!” Cian growled, but Drustan put his hand against his kinsman’s chest and gestured for peace. 

“We will hear you,” Dageus said, “In good faith.” He stared hard at Cian. “Doona take his threat lightly. His kind doesna need an army, even for the likes of us.”

“What kind would that be, Kinsman?”

“He is known to the Draghar.” Dageus said, with a negative motion of his head. “But only as a threat. Nothing more specific.”

Barrons stared hard at Dageus. “I should kill you where you stand, for that alone, druid.” He said very, very quietly.

“I swear to you on the blood of my own children, that I will never divulge it.”

Barrons took his measure a long time before inclining his head in agreement. “If you do, it shall be their blood who pays the price for your indiscretion, both now and in the future. Are we in agreement, gentlemen?”

“Lad?” Cian asked, eyes never leaving Barrons.

“Truth,” Christian gritted out. “All of it.”

“State your terms.” Cian said. “And doona try anything. The lad here has a talent for sniffing out lies. If you are duplicitous, he will ken it.”

Barrons gave Ryodan a nod, and he released Christian to join his uncles as Ryodan stood beside Barrons.

“We are all here for the Orb of D’Jai. I propose first of all an information exchange. We pool our knowledge of the Orb, Lamb, and the woman,” he turned to look at Christian, who bristled. “What the bloody hell were you intending to do with her that day, MacKeltar, that you sent her to my bookstore? Surely you recognize the very great danger you placed her in. It was fortunate for you that I spared her innocence.”

Drustan glanced hard at Christian, but said nothing.

“To what purpose do you wish this exchange?” He said to Barrons.

“Because if we are correct, Dr. Lamb is after the Orb. And presuming he finds it, we will have to act quickly to prevent him using it for his purposes. I presume that is why we are all here right now.”

“Aye,” said Drustan, clearly their designated negotiator. “But supposing we do not think that you have any information to offer us that is useful? Why then should we share with you?”

“I thought your brother had already clarified that earlier.”

Dageus nodded grudgingly. “We have nae choice, Brother. I dinna need our wee nephew to tell us there is truth in that statement.”

“Then shall we cease this tiresome prevarication and get down to business?”

 

* * *

 

They arrived back in camp just before darkness fell in earnest. 

Victoria shivered with anticipation. She could feel his eyes on her in the darkness. She knew this was the night when her dreams quite literally came true.

“What are you searching for?” He asked, standing back and watching her rifle through her pack with a torch.

“My lighter. I want to start the—”

A roaring campfire sprang into life from nothing.

“—fire,” she finished lamely.

He stood against a nearby tree, arms folded, eyes devouring her, his wings a dark silhouette over his shoulders.

Warmth spread through her from the unnaturally bright and brilliant camp fire.

She looked down, and at her feet was a plate of roasted fish, cooked to perfection, along with a side of little red potatoes. A steaming mug of coffee appeared next. No. Not coffee. Latte from Starbucks. A large caramel brulée latte, to be exact.

“I think I love you,” she said gazing at the coffee that had sprung from nowhere.

He huffed out a laugh. “If that is all it takes…”

She turned around and saw a wall of caramel brulée lattes behind her.

“That is a bit much, even for me.”

The wall disappeared.

“So. You going to tell me or make me ask?” She said, sitting down and tucking into her dinner with delight.

“Its more fun if you ask,” he said, not moving toward her.

“All right. Who are you? Or maybe I should say, ‘what’ are you? How are you doing all of this and why do you have those gorgeous wings?”

He laughed. White teeth flashing in the firelight. “Long ago, all of the higher castes of my race had them—the members of the four Seelie Royal Houses, that is. But over time, like so many things that once my people had, they have been lost to all but a few of us now. Only the oldest of my race still have wings. And one other, but he was an abomination that shall not be named, and is thankfully long dead now.”

“So that makes you—”

“Yes. One of the oldest remaining Fae Princes.”

“Fae? As in the Tuatha De Danaan?”

“Yes. That is what I mean.”

“So you are one of the Fae?”

“I am.” 

“Are you responsible for my dreams?”

A single white orchid grew up from nothing right before her, swaying in the evening breeze, it’s bloom spread wide, succulent petals impossibly velvety and somehow incredibly sexual. His eyes never left hers. 

“You were there too,” she said with conviction. “In every last one of them. You were there with me in my dreams. How is that possible?”

“There is a place known as The Dreaming. Where sleeping minds go to wander free. It is a place that can be accessed by more than one mind, but usually it is an uncontrolled, wild place. But there are some of us left who still possess the secret of controlling it—bending it to our will, much like a waking mind does a deliberate daydream. I found you there…and…” he breathed in a sharp breath, and she saw in his eyes memories. “I came to you.” He said simply. 

“You made love to me there,” she said, choking on her fish somewhat. “Repeatedly.”

“Oh, yes, My Love. I most surely did.” His eyes never left hers. 

“So it was real. It was all real.”

“Very real.” He said with a sigh. “When I found you again, Victoria, I—could not help myself. It is a place we often used to meet and…I hope you can forgive me.”

“We often used to meet there?”

“Yes.” He smiled softly at her. “Long ago,” he whispered.

“I’m confused.”

“Have you not felt it?” He was suddenly there before her, his hand in hers. “When we touch? When our eyes meet? When we are together in The Dreaming? That sense of Knowing that we have met before? That we have known each other far longer than we have? The…familiarity between us? The comfort? When I hold you this way…” he put his arms around her lightly, eyes on hers, “when I kiss you?” He leaned in, touched his lips to hers lightly. “Do you not feel it, My Love?”

And oh, everything was both familiar and strange, the way his lips caressed hers, the smell of jasmine and sandalwood that seemed to follow him, the feel of his body against hers.

“It is more than the Dream that you are remembering…” he spoke the words softly, his eyes so green and so vast Victoria felt lost in them. “When I kiss you, thus, when I wrap you in my wings and make love to you…” he whispered. “It is not for the first time. You have sensed this. It is part of your body’s response to mine…it is the soul, remembering…recognizing…”

He kissed her again, and Victoria was swept out to sea, carried by his touch, so gentle and so powerful. She felt lifted in his glorious wings as they brushed her suddenly naked skin, so velvety and soft, caressing her and cocooning her until there was nothing in the world but him. 

He brought her to climax with his kiss, over and over again, and she stood shuddering and moaning against him, wrapped in his wings as he took her mouth in one exquisitely slow, deep kiss after another. 

“Oh my love, how I have missed you,” he whispered, his hands cradling her face. “It has been so long…so long…”

“I…still…do not…under-STAND!” She trembled and shuddered with the force of what he made her feel, her knees buckling, his arms now around her waist, supporting her as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her body. 

“We have been lovers before,” he whispered, voice ragged, “More than one lifetime I have loved you. And down through the ages, I have waited to find you again.” 

“You are sure—it was me?” 

“Yesssss,” he purred against her throat. “I would know you anywhere.” 

“How is such a thing possible? How can you be so sure I am the woman you love?”

“Because I have never died. I have remembered you, through the millenia. I have retained memories so vast as to drive most beings even of my own race mad. And when even the greatest of them have sought to end their suffering by drinking from the Cauldron of Forgetting, wiping all memory clean, I have resisted, not wishing to forget the glory that is you, the love that we share. I have never been wrong. Each time I have found you, I have known you for who you were, just as I know you now. You feel drawn to me, do you not? In a way you cannot quite understand.”

“Well, perhaps I understand a little,” she smiled into his eyes and caressed his face with her still-trembling hands. “You are one hell of a hottie, after all.”

He grinned. “So are you.” He nuzzled her, chuckling. “It pleases me that you find my visage handsome.”

“I have not stopped dreaming about your ‘handsome visage’ since the day we met, Dr. Lamb.” She nuzzled him back, “Or did you do that to me too?”

“No,” he said, face brilliant with happiness as he brushed her hair away from her face. “You did that. You entered The Dreaming, calling for me. I felt the tug and came to you.”

“It started slowly,” she said, feeling as though she was recalling an important detail. “Almost like a real courtship.”

“Mmm…fancy that.”

“And every day I woke and came to work…”

“You were so adorable, you know. You’d come in, clearing your throat, your cheeks so pink when you looked at me.” He bit his lip, grinning. “You don’t know what torture it was not to snatch you up and kiss you right there, in the middle of my office…my desk…the conference room…bring you shuddering to climax with the barest of kisses, just to bask in the glory of what I alone could make you feel. Oh my beautiful love--to work next to you, to drink in your scent, after over a century of waiting--day after day, longing to hold you truly in my arms, but knowing it was not yet time--it was almost more than I could bear.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded,” she said suddenly, “Although that might have been hard to explain.”

“Only if we are visible.” He nibbled her ear.

“What…you mean you can change that? Make us like we’re invisible?”

“Mmmhmm…brings up some interesting possibilities, don’t you think?” His hot mouth traveled down her throat, and he kissed her fluttering pulse at the base of her neck.

“It was…instant, you know. The moment I met you…I wanted you more than anything or anyone in the world. And I knew…I’d never, ever love another man again as long as I lived.”

“That is The Recognition,” he said, nibbling on her throat. “Deep in your soul, deep in your innermost part of yourself, you knew me. And you’d been waiting for me, too.”

“Tell me everything. I want to know all about them. All about us.”

“I shall. But first, My Love, I wish very much to make love to you. Will you have me? Will you take your Fae Prince to your bower, take him for your lover in truth, this side of the Dreaming?”

“I will,” she said without hesitation, still drowning in his eyes. “If he will have me?”

The world around them bloomed. The air was warm and sultry, and filled with the scent of flowers growing suddenly all around them. He bent and scooped her into his arms, carried her to her tent. As they crossed the threshold, Victoria’s eyes widened. They weren’t in her tent at all. 

“Where is this place?”

He grinned as he laid her down on a bed soft as a cloud…no wait…it  was a cloud! 

She squeaked, and threw herself against him. 

“Do not fear,” he chuckled softly at her, laying her back again. “You are quite safe.”

The bed was solid beneath her but…she was lying on a cloud! Floating high above emerald green fields, drifting lazily by them, blown on a warm breeze scented with the jasmine and sandalwood that ever clung to the air when he was near. The wind across them was cool but not cold. She was entirely comfortable. Entirely supported. Entirely…safe.

“You didn’t think I was going to make love to you on your bunk, did you?” He purred in her ear. “Not when we could be anywhere we liked. Do you see the benefits, My Dear, of being the Consort of a Fae Prince? I can show you things you’ve never imagined. I can take you places no mortal man can ever take you…”

He lay down beside her, his body grazing hers. She could feel the long, hard length of his arousal touch her and she nearly lost it again. 

Suddenly they were both nude, his clothes seemingly evaporated. She was aching, throbbing with need of him, her lips swollen and plump, her breasts also, nipples hard as pebbles, and the rest of her too called out for his lips, his body, his hands to touch and claim her. He came to her with reverence, flashes of iridescent light danced in the green depths of his eyes as he covered her body and wrapped her in his wings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's nothing left to explain from Fever World in this chapter. Please comment your questions if there's something I've forgotten something!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coinciding with the disappearance of Dr. Lamb and Victoria, the team make a discovery that takes them all by surprise.

Chapter 7

 

“Where the bloody hell are they?” Christian stamped up and down the length of the clearing, running a hand through his dark hair. “It’s been all of a day, and they haven’t been seen, or heard from!”

Barrons appeared, from inside Victoria’s tent. “No sign of them,” he snarled. “Bloody hell!”

“I just said that!” Christian snapped.

Barrons disappeared, then reappeared right in front of him. “I’d keep your mouth shut, MacKeltar, if I was you. Before someone shuts it permanently.”

“How did you do that?” Christian said, ignoring the threat. “I didna see you move!”

“It’s not my fault if you’re blind as well as idiotic, MacKeltar,” Barrons said smoothly. “Has no one ever taught you not to take your eyes off your enemy? It can be a deadly mistake.”

“Shut up, the both of ye!” Cian shouted. “We’re supposed to be working together, or have ye forgotten our bargain?”

“I forget nothing,” Barrons said very softly, his eyes fixed on Christian, flickers of crimson in their deep obsidian depths, and for a brief moment, Christian froze, as if he did indeed see his own death reflected in those black eyes. “You would do well to remember that.”

Christian’s eyes narrowed but he crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing. Barrons moved away, and his Uncle Dageus appeared, clapping his hand on Christian’s shoulder.

“Watch yerself with him, Laddie,” Dageus said in a low voice. “He doesna make idle threats.”

“Who is he, Uncle? What do the Draghar ken of him?”

“Only that they feared him and his kind,” Dageus said softly. “When the Draghar fear something, I reckon we would do well to heed that.”

Christian nodded, hearing the ring of truth in his Uncle’s words. “Nae more than that? Just fear?”

“Aye. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s enough.”

“Where are they, Uncle? There’s no sign of them here or in the other camp.”

“Aye well. That doesna surprise me. He probably suspected an ambush, and so whisked her off to a place we cannae track or follow.”

“Aye, there can be only one place they will have gone,” Cian growled, arms folded across his chest as the reluctant team drew together to confer. His eyes passed from man to man, and it seemed to Christian as if his heart just dropped into his shoes as his uncle pronounced his sentence.

“He will have taken her to Faery.”

Barrons cursed profusely.

“Well,” said Drustan with a sigh, “I suppose that’s proof positive that Dr. Lamb is Fae, if further proof were needed.”

“Can you track them?” Dageus asked Ryodan.

“No,” he grated. “Not once they’re in Faery.”

“So now what? We wait till they come back, I suppose? If we canna go and get them?” Christian asked.

“Only one problem with that Lad,” said his uncle Drustan. “Time moves differently in Faery, ye ken. But an hour in Faery could be a lifetime here. Or only a matter of days. There’s no way to predict it.”

“Unless we have a dolmen,” said Dageus. “A portal into the Faery world through which we could follow them.”

Barrons shook his head, a single slice movement to the left and then back again. “No. It’s not viable. Only if you know the precise location—and time—to link to, and even then the risk is untenable. We don’t have any idea where they are. The Faery realms are vast. One wrong link could end you up in the Hall of All Days, some hell planet, or in the Unseelie Prison itself. Its too risky.”

“Agreed,” said Ryodan.

“Aye,” said Cian. “As a man who spent a near eternity caught in one of their wee realms, I’m nae over eager to set foot in one ever again. I’d advise against trying to follow as well.”

Barrons nodded in acknowledgment.

“But is she safe?” Christian asked. Was he the only one worried about Victoria’s welfare? “He’s got her! Perhaps a captive as you were, Uncle Cian. We cannae just leave her there—we must rescue her!”

“There’s no rescuing her, kid,” said Ryodan with a laugh. “Not by you anyway. She’s halfway to pri-ya by now. If not fully there already. It’d take more than what you got to bring her back now.” His eyes moved up and down Christian’s body, as if dismissing him as barely male. Christian scoffed. Like hell he was! He was probably more well hung than that son of a--

His uncle Drustan clapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. “Och, lad. Ye were sweet on her, were ye no?”

He shook his head, but he didn’t need his own built-in lie detector to tell him he was full of shite.

“Lad, she’s no a prisoner, except of her own free will. She’s with him willingly, aye?” The look in his uncle Dageus’s eyes told him what he didn’t want to know.

He swallowed manfully. “So that’s why they’re gone then. He took her away to…”

“Aye. It seems they didna want to be interrupted.”

Shit shit and double shit! He knew, of course he had, that she was sweet on Dr. Lamb. She had told him she only wanted to be friends. He had no reason to be disappointed, or even surprised. So why did it feel as though he’d just been punched in the gut? He forced his thoughts away from Victoria and the activities she was probably now engaged in, tasting bile in the back of his throat.

“One thing we do know for certain—they will be back.” Barrons said. “He still needs the Orb. And the Orb is here.”

“So it’s a matter of waiting.” Said Dageus.

“Aye but for how long?” Asked Drustan.

“Doesn’t matter. If we want the Orb, then we wait. There is no other alternative.” Barrons said matter-of-factly.

So it was agreed they would wait in shifts. Monitoring the area, for signs of their return. Christian, Drustan and Ryodan would keep tabs on the student camp and dig area while Dageus, Cian and Barrons kept watch over Dr. Lamb’s encampment. So they set up camp sites of their own and settled down to watch. And wait.

 

* * *

 

“Has anyone seen Dr. Lamb recently?”

Harriet looked up from her analysis of the pottery shards that had been located in spoils pile number two to meet Emma’s anxious eyes.

“No. I suppose I haven’t. Up at the second dig site still, most likely. With Vicky.” She smiled and met Ernst’s eyes, who grinned conspiratorially and went back to digging. “Why?”

“Because,” Emma said, hoisting up a very agitated little Dash.

“Well, surely they’re around somewhere. Vicky never goes anywhere without Dash.”

“My point precisely,” Emma said. “He came running into camp early this morning. I followed him back to their camp to find it empty entirely. No sign of them anywhere!”

“What, either of them? Well…maybe they just went for a…walk. You know. Just the two of them.”

Emma sighed. “But why should Dash come running back to our camp this way and not go with them? Even if their ‘walk’ is what you are insinuating, Harriet, surely Dash would not have been an inhibiting factor. It’s not like he’s going to tell anyone, is it?”

Harriet shrugged. “Wherever they are, they are together, Emma. I know Dr. Lamb can look after himself. And Vicky too. I’m sure they’re quite safe.”

“But its most unlike them. Well, it’s most unlike him to go wandering off in the middle of a dig.”

“Perhaps he is still digging elsewhere. For a different sort of treasure,” Ernst said, wagging his eyebrows at Emma and thrusting his shovel into the earth pointedly. “Have you not thought of that?”

“Ernst!” Harriet said, her eyes widening and a blush creeping up her face while she giggled. “Shame on you!”

“Why should it be shameful?” He said, leaning on his shovel handle with both elbows and raising an eyebrow playfully at Harriet, one side of his handsome mouth curled into a knowing smile. “He has been eying her ever since they met. And she him. I have no doubt that wherever they are, he has struck gold by now. Let us, as their friends, leave them to the happy contemplation of their new-found wealth together, and get on with the work here so that we may later contemplate our own, eh? They will surface soon enough I am sure.”

“No. I am sure it is more than that. I cannot shake the feeling something is wrong. Look at him,” Emma said, petting Dash’s ears, “he is worried. He would not be so if everything was okay.”

Just then, Alfred rushed over.

“Everyone! Come quickly!”

“What is it?” Emma and Harriet said almost in unison.

“Mina,” he said, breathless. “Mina will explain. Trench three!” He dashed off, presumably to spread the word.

Harriet, Ernst and Emma with Dash in tow arrived at trench three just at the time the rest of the team was converging. Mina was at the center of the circle, holding a medium sized metal tube in her hand, Albert beaming over her shoulder like a proud father.

“It was found in the spoils pile,” Albert said, still smiling. “Ada found it, with the metal detector.” He put her arm around Ada, who beamed up at him happily. “There are markings along the edges here. As if cut by a knife, for some unknown purpose. We believe this may be a very important find.”

“S’cuse me, but, shouldn’t we be alerting Dr. Lamb if we have found something so very important?” Nancy asked the assembled team.

“There may be a problem with that.” Emma and Harriet and Ernst exchanged worried glances.

“What problem would there be, exactly?” Robert Peel asked, arms folded across his chest.

The team seemed to take in for the first time the sight of the little King Charles spaniel, barking at Emma’s feet.

It was Ernst who spoke, his eyes now too, reflecting worry, despite his words before.

“It would seem that Dr. Lamb and Victoria are missing.”

“What do you mean, ‘missing’?” Robert Peel said.

Emma related the story of Dash to the others, ending with the empty camp. When she was finished, a hushed silence had fallen like a pall over the team.

“We thought initially, perhaps, the two had just…taken a walk. Perhaps to do some more reconnaissance, or to canvas the area further,” Ernst cleared his throat, glancing at Harriet. “But as Emma has pointed out it has been some hours, and Dash is here.”

“Have you tried raising him on his mobile?” Albert asked. “Or Victoria?”

“No. Both mobiles are still at the camp, along with the radio. Wherever they are, they left all their communication devices behind.”

There was some throat clearing around the circle at this, and a series of pink cheeked women and men shuffling their feet in the dirt under their boots. It was plain to everyone why they had left and what they were about.

“So what of it? So he took her out to shag her someplace. They’ll be back soon. How long can it possibly take anyway?”

Penge clouted Brodie over the head. “Shut up, Boy! Remember your place!”

“Shows how much you know about it,” Frank countered with a laugh. “I can see now why you haven’t got a woman of your own.” He put an arm around a furiously blushing Nancy.

Ernst joined in. “Agreed Brodie! Perhaps that will feature among Dr. Lamb’s other lecture series? By all accounts, you could learn more than archeology from him! Or perhaps you could just ask Victoria when she returns!”

“That is not funny!” Albert ground out, glaring at Ernst. “Take it back, or I’ll shove your teeth down your throat.”

“Easy, brother,” Ernst said, raising his hands, his amusement replaced by a look of concern on his face. “I meant no disrespect. But surely you know that…”

“Enough, I said! You will not speak of her that way again!”

“All right,” Ernst said, backing away. “I apologize.”

“Shame on all of you,” he said, turning his fierce glare around the circle. Taking out his mobile, he punched some numbers.

“What are you doing? They are not near their mobiles, remember?”

“Hello,” Albert said quietly into his phone. “I need to report two missing persons.”

 

* * *

 

For the next few days, the team had more to worry about than just their find.  There had been no sign of Dr. Lamb or of Victoria. Though the Garda, the police force in Ireland, had found another campsite not far from the location of the second dig sight, it was quickly determined that it did not belong to the missing pair, nor to anyone who appeared to still be in the area.  Foul play was quickly ruled out as there were no signs of scuffle or theft or any coercion.  Questions were to be asked in a nearby town, but the Garda were of the opinion that the two may have either gotten lost, or met with an accident of some kind.  The families and next of kin had been notified and the search was continuing of the area, while information about the two were being circulated in the media. All members of the dig team had been interviewed, and interviewed again, then joined in the search.

But the Garda, the dig team and multiple volunteers from the nearby villages could not find any trace of the two.  It was as if they had disappeared into a puff of smoke.  Trinity College had sent word through Robert Peel that the dig was to be cancelled and the team return to Dublin by the following day, while the Garda would continue searching and making inquiries in the area. 

It was sometime the next evening, when all the campsites had been struck, the trenches had been filled in and all finds had been cataloged before the subject of Ada’s find came up again. Emma had taken charge of Dash for the time being, as well as responsibility for all the belongings of Victoria and Dr. Lamb. The team had convened one last time in the pub in the nearby village, and sat with heavy hearts around the table, when suddenly Ernst asked the assembled group, “what was it that you found, Ada?   We never got to see it.  Even if Dr. Lamb is not here to give us his opinion, you have many other fine minds around the table. Let us have a look at least?”

“Oh, Mina has it,” Ada said, brightening a little. “At least I gave it to her when we found it.”

“Oh yes,” Mina said, brightening just a little. “I have it here.” She pulled the metal tube, encased in a plastic finds bag, out of her purse. “I was going to take it to the lab later and run some analysis on it.” She placed it on the table in the center of the gathering. “It appears to be a hollow iron casing, still sealed. I’m guessing there is something inside of it. Perhaps a manuscript of some kind.”

Penge picked it up, circled it around in his hand disinterestedly. “Perhaps its just a piece of old Irish drainpipe. Looks fairly unremarkable if you ask me.” He put it down again and took a drink.

“What do you think, Mina?” Alfred asked encouragingly. “You are the resident expert in Irish cultures, after all?” He smiled at her sweetly.

Mina smiled rather sadly. “Yes, but that doesn’t make me an expert on chemical composition analysis or an expert in runes.”

“Runes?” Ernst said, perking up.

“Oh yes,” Mina said with a nod. “These markings along here.”

“But, we thought those were cuts from a knife.” Albert put in.

“Oh no, they’re runes. I can tell enough to know they’re Irish, and fairly ancient. But not enough to know what they say. I thought we might send it to the Ancient Languages department for a look, once it’s been dated properly. See if we can’t decipher it.  I sure wish Dr. Lamb was here, though. He would know exactly what this is, I’m sure, and what to do with it.”

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance?”

The table looked up as one.

“Christian!” Mina smiled, her whole face beaming, almost coming out of her chair. “What are you doing here?”

Alfred looked from Mina to Christian, and back to Mina again, something like concern flashing in his fair blue eyes.

“I was visiting with…friends. I heard something of what ye said.”

Mina rose to welcome Christian, and introduced him to the team, seating him down next to her, with herself between him and Alfred. “Christian MacKeltar works in the Ancient Languages department at Trinity,” she explained to the team as he ordered himself a pint. “Perhaps he can have a look at it, with everyone’s permission?”

The team nodded their assent, and Alfred’s arm circled possessively around Mina’s chair. She turned to smile reassuringly at him, and patted his knee as Christian picked up the tube…and whistled.

“What is it?” Mina said excitedly.

“It’s very dirty, aye, and needs to be cleaned to be completely deciphered but…it’s Ogham. No question.” He handed it back to Mina, who could hardly contain herself. “Ye can see for yourself, lass, here,” he pointed to the markings which Albert had noticed before, like a series of tick-marks along the edging. “Ogham is very old and simple form of writing, almost like a code. And very rare on something made of iron. Usually it is found only on stone, or possibly wood. How very curious indeed.”

“What does it mean?” Asked Ernst, concerned. “What’s Ogham?”

“An ancient form of Irish writing,” Mina said, cornflower blue eyes flashing with excitement. “The oldest form of writing ever discovered in Ireland. It means that at the latest, this little tube dates back to about, what Christian? The 9th Century A.D. would you say?”

“Aye,” he replied. “Or thereabouts.  There’s no question that tube is very old, and may contain a manuscript that may be even older. Bring it by the Ancient Languages department when you get it cleaned, and we’ll have another look at it. I might even pull in an extra expert or two to take a wee keek at it too, to see if we can’t read what it says. Congratulations, lass. Looks like a verra significant find indeed.”

Christian drank his pint and then made his excuses and left.

“How do you know him?” Alfred asked, watching his retreating back with a grave expression.

“We often work together,” Mina said, surprised. “I’m an expert on the Ancient Irish, but not on the language end of it. I often need help from his department,” she said, eyes narrowing speculatively. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he said, clearing his throat, face reddening.

“Alfred,” she said quietly, so as the others wouldn’t hear. “Just tell me one thing. Are you worried about me being interested in Christian, or should I be worried that you are?”

He huffed out a laugh and downed his drink, shaking his head. “He’s devilishly handsome. Should I be worried?”

“No,” she said, meeting his eyes with a soft, hesitant smile. “Well. That’s half of it answered.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I have eyes for only one person these days.”

“Good,” she said, grinning. “So do I.”

* * *

“Report.”

Christian glanced at Ryodan in annoyance as he took his seat. “Why the hell can’t you ask a polite question like a normal person?  I dinnae answer to you.”

“What makes you think I’m a normal person.  And while I'm here, you sure as hell do report to me.”

“Never mind, Lad. What did ye learn?”

Christian looked at his Uncle Drustan. “An iron tube, about so long,” he indicated with his fingers, “carved with runes. Ogham.” He looked at both men significantly.

Ryodan whistled.

“Ah.” Drustan said, nodding. “Not the Orb, but it could lead to it, aye?”

“That’s my bet, Uncle. Can you read it?”

“Nay. Its a wee bit before my time. Either of them.” He said with a smile.

“Mina is going to bring it by the Ancient Languages department next week. That gives me time to find some cyphers, or an expert in the reading of ancient runes to try and make it out.”

“Good idea. Take pictures when ye get it. Mayhap your Da may be of assistance too.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Christian said. His father was adept at reading many of the ancient manuscripts that were found in the Keltar archives. It was possible he could read Ogham, or find a book somewhere that could assist.

“We will require pictures as well.”

“Fine by me.” Christian raised his whiskey to his lips and drank.

Ryodan nodded. “Good. Then we go back to Dublin tomorrow. If the dig is dispersing, there’s no reason not to go with them. I have a business to run.”

“Aye, we all have lives,” Drustan agreed. “Time to contact Dageus and the others. Tell them what we have discovered.” He set his mug down with a clatter that held with it the ring of finality. “The chase has moved on. Time we did the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fever Definitions:
> 
> The Hall of All Days--a vast network of linking silvers (mirrors) used by the ancient Fae for traveling between worlds. The silvers work like doorways, or portals between worlds, and the number of them in the Hall of All Days is said to be infinite. They have fallen out of use since they were effected by Cruce's curse, which means that basically they've all been randomized, so the image reflected in the portal does not accurately show what is beyond it. (So one could step through a silver depicting a calm and happy beach and end up on a fire world instead.) To end up in the Hall of All Days is like a death sentence, with nearly no hope of ever getting out again and safely back to where you started.
> 
> Unseelie Prison--literally the place where all the unseelie have been sent. It is an ice world of blue and black and white, where hunger of any kind is impossible to sate. The Unseelie have been prisoners on this world for many thousands of years. 
> 
> Cian makes a comment about being imprisoned in a Fae realm. He was imprisoned in a Fae silver for over 900 years. See his book for more information if you are curious--It is called Spell of a Highlander, and it is the last book in Karen Marie Moning's Highlander series.
> 
> As always if I have forgotten to explain something, or you have any questions, please ask!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, Victoria and William...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Heat Advisory!*  
> Not intended to be read at work, or in the presence of children.

Chapter 8

 

Her dreams had been nothing compared to this.

He kissed her lazily, languidly, the touch of him like fire against her skin. Then he caught her face in his hands and kissed her open-mouthed in the most sensuous kiss she had ever experienced as he moved within her. He was so deep inside of her, and so large she had thought at first she could barely take him, but then after a little coaxing found that oh, dear God yes she could! He filled her completely. Beautifully. His movements so slow, so gorgeous, each long stroke touching her in all the right places so that she couldn’t…

Stop…

Coming!

Climax after climax claimed her, rolled through her. Again. And again. Her lover played her body like an instrument…and she was helpless…helpless to stop him. Even if she wanted to.

And she most certainly did not.

She opened her eyes. Took in the sheer masculine beauty of the man who moved inside of her, who made her feel such bone-melting pleasure.  His face…his perfect chiseled face, framed by the soft curls of his dark hair, his beautiful mouth, that set hers on fire every time he touched his lips to hers…the fringe of dark thick lashes that gave him an almost innocent air…and then his eyes, dear God his eyes! They were heavy with love as he smiled at her, iridescent flashes of kaleidoscopic color burning deep in their impossibly green depths. She was drowning in his eyes….drowning in his face…in him…He was so impossibly beautiful. Alien. And yet so familiar. She had known him her whole life, hadn’t she? Forever…she had loved and trusted and known this man forever…forever waited for this day…this perfect day when finally he claimed her.  And it was so very very right between them.  She reached trembling fingers up to brush his face…and his eyes softened even further, as if moved by her gesture.

He was gazing at her as if his very life depended on her love.

“I am here, My Love. Yeesss, ohhh yesss…that’s it my darling, darling girl….oh my beautiful love, come to me...come for me…only for me…you are mine...and I am yours…” He purred against her skin, eyes drinking in her every response. Telling her she was beautiful, that she was a goddess, that he had waited so long for her, and that no other woman had ever pleased him so well.

She buried her hands in his soft, luxuriously curly hair, as her body moved in time with his slow rocking movements and he bent to attend to her breasts.

She didn’t know what sounds were coming out of her mouth. She tried to form words of love to give back to him…telling him he was her world, her only lover, and God only knew what else. But she was far too gone for real speech. His lips, his hands moved on her breasts, he moved inside of her, his wings cradled her body, the feathery touch like rose petals brushing against her skin, every petal, every feather, creating it’s own wave of sensual pleasure so she was lost, utterly lost, in him.

His mouth against her breast…oh dear God! First one and then the other until she was a blur of sensation in which nothing existed but his mouth, his deft hands, his wings, the hard heat of his body and his slow, driving cock inside of her.  She arched into him…moved against him, wanting more…more of everything…more of him in every way…more oh more! She could never—have—enough!

She gave herself to him, and gave and gave and gave…she was utterly his. Beyond reason…beyond redemption…beyond and farther beyond everything she’d ever thought she’d known before.  And her heart wept with love and devotion to him, and the magic of what he made her feel.

 

* * *

Heaven.

After an eternity of hell, he was in heaven again. Here, in her arms, inside of her body, he was whole. Home. He needed, oh, how he needed—how he craved her! Every movement, every gasp of her breath, every subtle expression that drifted across her beloved face…he wanted to absorb it all. Wanted to crawl up inside of her and stay there. And now, finally, she was going to be his forever! No more hell. No more separation. No more pain. Loss. Grief. Nothing…nothing but this—perfect—completion!

He was going to take an eon to make love to her, at least. Constantly. Until she _became_ orgasm. Until she had only to look at him to feel what he could do to her…what only _he_ could make her feel. He wanted to love her without end. To feast himself upon her pleasure. Her every climax, his banquet. And oh, how he hungered for her! His hunger was boundless…eternal…bottomless. She of all women, he would never tire of. Never stop wanting. Never stop…loving.

He knew to the depths of his essence that she was part of him—a necessity he could not live without. Had known it the first time he’d ever seen her. Two halves of the same being, their broken and jagged edges fitting each other perfectly, softening and melting together, soothing each other’s pain, making them whole. Without the other, neither would ever be complete.

Oh how he relished what was to come!

But for now, he must not forget…must not lose himself in her totally. Must remember she is fragile. So perfectly, deliciously human!

But human women…break.

He had been so gentle, so careful…he must continue to be. He must not allow his own very bottomless, ravenous appetite to harm her. Slowly. Carefully he moved inside of her. Watching her reactions intently. Toning himself down. Adjusting. Making sure she was still able to handle everything he was giving her, holding his lethal eroticism in check.

It was enough for now, he told himself, to bask in the warmth of her body, in the glory of her climax. To wrap her in his arms, in his wings, to cradle her perfect form against himself, to drink in her sighs and moans, to feel her caresses and kisses after so long. After so much loneliness.

But soon, soon he would not have to hold back. Soon she would meet him in kind. Strong enough to endure all of him. Mmmm, how delicious it will be for them both when she became like him—his Princess, his Fae princess, who would be his consort, his lover forever! Soon, he would taste the fruits of his long labors. All of it would be worth it—the eons of patience, the bouts of madness, the cycle of joy and despair—the long centuries of trial and error, of pouring all of his frustration and grief and loneliness into this one great purpose. All his hopes, all his dreams, all his futures were about to come true.

She came beneath him, again and again, shuddering and sighing, his name on her lips! He drank in her pleasure, thirsty for it. The sweet, breathy sounds of her gasps, her sighs, her moans at everything he made her feel rolled through him deliciously. Oh God, how he wanted to release himself to her…he shuddered with the effort of holding himself back. Not yet. It would be too much for her…he could…not…risk harming her…he must think of the long term. Soon. Soon…and then…

He would be her every dream…her every fantasy…he would learn every nuance of what pleases her…down to the smallest detail…and he would fulfill it all to perfection. He would love her the way no other ever could. Unlike mortal men, he was indefatigable. A lover who never needed rest, who was always ready, and oh so eager to please her. He would be everything to her, the way she was everything to him. And when she was his Princess…she would be unbreakable too. And then, oh what they would have together!

He ravished her throat with kisses…such delicious perfection! And then her lips…her mouth beneath his, open, plump, ripe for the taking…wanting him…seeking him…soft and wet and yielding. God how he loved to kiss her! How he had missed her! How he loved to twine his tongue around her perfect, pink, hungry little tongue, sliding like velvet against his. He loved her hunger…fed on it. It was all for him, and it was glorious.

“Oh my beauty,” he whispered to her, “how you take my breath away…how I love you so.”

“Oh God…” she wailed, her dainty arms around his neck, her sweet breath against his lips, her eyes wide with dawning understanding of what he could give to her. “I can’t stop…” her lips fell open, her head dropped back and her eyes emptied as another wave took her.

He held her cradled against him, moving slowly, ever so slowly and deeply inside of her. Filling her. Caressing her. Treasuring her. Prolonging every climax as long as it could go, and leading her straight into the next in a unending, lapping ocean of pleasure.

“Will-iam,” she breathed, “Oh Dear God, WILLIAM…” her fingers landed on his cheek. “Dar-ling…Never…stop!” she arched against him again. “Ohhhh!!!”

“That’s it,” he purred against her ear. “Take what I can give you…take it all…” he drove himself in deeper and was rewarded with the most exquisite little mewling cry.

He felt it ripple through him, break against him…felt his own climax threaten…

NO! He shouldn’t! It was too dangerous! Too…much….

He felt his control slip. Her response was immediate. Amped up as she was it was

To…

Glorious!

“Victoria!” He cried, and lost himself. “Oh God…My darling girl…my Queen!”

“Yes!” she screamed, bucking against him as he came and came inside of her.

It was perfect! It was so so perfect!

He dropped his head to her breast and tasted her, moving still deep and hard inside of her. Groaning. “My beauty…oh my Queen…”

“H-how are you…doing that?” she panted, crying out again as she wound her fingers in his hair, her glazed eyes open in wonder.

“I do not need rest to keep pleasuring you,” he smiled at her, nuzzling, taking her between his teeth as she sucked in a sharp breath.

She arched into him and he was overcome by the beauty of her orgasm. This was where he wanted to live. Here. In the moment of ecstasy, forever. And soon…soon she would be strong enough to stay here too. But for now, it was time to stop, he reminded himself. Human women were so fragile that even as gentle as he was with her, she was tiring quickly. He slowed his movements…slower, slower. Letting her come down from her climax gently as he could, he kissed her eager lips, stopping altogether as she gasped for breath and trembled against him. When she was stable, he slowly withdrew himself from her totally, leaving her bower and putting distance between them, covering her shivering form quickly with a thick, soft blanket made of ermine. It was killing him to stop…he trembled in every limb. Having tasted this much of her, he was raging for more. Oh, so much more! But he knew she had reached her limit…for now.

She groaned, her limbs shaking with cold and exhaustion.

“Where are you?”

“Here my love. I am here.” _I don’t trust myself to come closer or I may break you._

“Come and hold me. Don’t leave me. Just give me…a chance to breathe…”

“If I come closer, you may climax again.”

“Not if you behave yourself,” she slurred. “Good God…” her head dropped back against the pillow. “How…do you do this to me!”

“It is what I am. It is known as the Sidhba-jai. It is the nature of Fae royalty. Humans react this way to us.”

“In a c-constant orgasm?”

“Yes. And if your Fae lover is cruel and unforgiving, he can rob you of your mind, your soul, your very being in the process. Make you a slave to it. Even kill you. But I would never let our love harm you. I will always shield you.”

“So that is why you are so very careful with me…”

“Have I not made it plain to you, Woman, that I love you? Of course I am careful. You are everything to me.” He smiled at her. “Everything. And so much more.”

“And still…what you do to me!” She groaned again. “I think I will never stop having…aftershocks.” She smiled back at him, blue eyes glazed with pleasure, and shuddered again. “God how I want you to be un-careful with me! But I suppose that would be a very bad thing.”

“For the moment, yes,” he said, smiling. “But it will not always be so.”

“I t-think I can still f-feel you!” She closed her eyes with a groan. “ _Please_ come here.”

He held her eyes, savoring her reactions to him. God what a beauty she was. How much it gratified him to know she craved him so. It took all his willpower not to wrap himself around her and drive himself to the hilt inside of her. But he mustn’t. Not yet. He would risk no harm to her simply for his own pleasure. He had pushed things as far as he dared already. He must not go farther.

He had waited for eons. He could wait a little longer.

“Next to you you will find drink to refresh you.”

“All I want…is you!”

“It will subside. Drink it all, my love. You will feel…eased.”

She propped herself up on a wobbly elbow and raised the cup to her lips and drained its contents. She sank back down with a sigh, her breathing more even, her writhing now a light shivering, her eyes more focused again. She clutched at the blanket as he added another one to warm her further.

“I want to snuggle with you!” She said, after a time. “It’s killing me that you are so far away!”

The part of him inside that most closely resembled a human heart twisted at her plea. Crumbled. He ached in every bone to join her. But he dared not! He must be so careful not to turn her pri-ya with the intensity of his need—and hers. He must pace himself…be slow…allow her time to recover fully.

“I wish it too. But I cannot. Not yet.”

“W-why?”

His heart broke.

“Because I might…damage you.”

“Damage me,” she breathed, with a sigh. “Oh please God, damage the hell out of me! Just come back here, please!”

His little firebrand. How brightly she still burned! He huffed a laugh.

“Do not tempt me so, Victoria. I stay away for your own protection.”

She groaned, her beautiful features pulled down into a pout. “What if I don’t want you to protect me?”

“That is precisely why I must.”

She made a sound of impatience. Her eyes brilliant as sapphires, intense and magnetic. Drawing him.

“Please,” she said, “Can you not just…hold me? You have studied us long enough to know that after so much intimacy, it is hard for us to be so fully separated from our lover. Especially so abruptly.”

He looked down at his hands. “Yes I know,” he said, “But I do not trust myself where you are concerned. You need rest. You need time to gather your strength again before I can come to you safely.”

“But if you just hold me…”

“I will want more,” he said, shaking his head. “You will want more.”

“Of course I want more,” she said, propping herself up on one elbow and wrapping herself in ermine, looking at him coquettishly. “You aren’t half bad at this, after all. And you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

He huffed a laugh again. God how she charmed him. That in and of itself was a wonder. That a being as ancient as himself could be charmed by any one woman, after thousands of lovers over thousands of years….But he was. Charmed beyond reason. This little human could but crook her finger in his direction, and he’d fall to his bloody knees before her. Supplicate himself. Do anything to please her.

“Victoria…”

“Please!”

“God, Woman, you don’t know what it does it me to hear you say that word.”

“Please…” she whispered, her eyes…

Dear God, her eyes!

“I do not wish to harm you,” he whispered almost desperately, unable to take his eyes from hers. Bewitching woman. Eyes so full of passion he could drown. How he wanted to drown in them! In her…

Perhaps he could just…if he was very careful…

He came to her, turning himself down, dampening himself as far as he could, trying to make himself as human as possible for her. He slid in between the soft fur covers with her and drew her to himself, wrapping her in his arms, pillowing her head on his chest. “Better?”

“Oh yes,” she said in a sigh, “so much better.”

He stroked her arms, concentrating very hard on keeping the Sidhba-jai turned down as far as he could manage. This was so much better—for them both.

Her body needed time to recover, true, but she needed this to connect with him. And oh, she felt so good in his arms this way! It had been a small eternity since he’d last held her thus. He closed his eyes and sighed.

She made contented noises that pleased him very much as she snuggled closer, running her fingers idly across his chest. After a time, she propped her head up on her hand and began to look around them, no longer quivering, her eyes clear and bright.

“Are we really in the clouds?”

“We are.”

“How are we doing this?”

“Because I’m here.”

“Did you make the cloud more solid?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What if it rains on us?”

He huffed a laugh. “It won’t.”

“I’m so confused. About almost everything.”

“Like what?” he asked, idly combing his fingers through her hair.

“Everything,” she said, turning her blue gaze back to him. “Except…”

“Except?” he echoed with a small smile. She was adorable. Absolutely adorable. And oh, how he adored her!

“You. Nothing else makes sense. Except you. But as long as I have you, nothing else matters.”

“You will always have me,” he whispered, kissing her fingertips, basking in the warmth of her eyes.

“Could you take me flying?” She said suddenly with a smile, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I would love to,” he said with a grin.

“What, now?”

“Anytime.”

“But--someone might see us.”

“They won’t. I promise.”

She felt him slide his hands around her waist as the bed and the cloud melted away, and it was just her in his arms.

“Hold tight,” he said smiling, his wings spread, mighty, flapping soundlessly, beating effortlessly against the air, taking them up and up.

Victoria wrapped her arms around his neck with a squeak and her legs around his waist, which pleased him no end as he wrapped his arms around her tightly and caught the wind. Opening his wings wide, he was soon riding the air currents, and they were soaring over the green landscape below.

Eventually she forgot her fear and looked around, laughing at the craziness of being held in the air by her lover, zooming over a brilliant emerald landscape. He drank in the joy on her face, the way the wind blew wisps of her brown hair around them both, and her utter trust in him as they soared, and finally he brought her back to their bower in the sky, setting her down gently on their floating bed.

“Well,” she said. “That’s certainly something you don’t see every day!”

“Mmm well, _you_ can,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“No! I meant…flying!” She giggled and slapped his shoulder lightly.

“Oh that, I thought you meant…” he leaned back with a grin, emphasizing.

“Well. That too.” She said grinning.

“Aren’t you going to tell me how majestic it is?” He whispered, turning her beneath him. He was so ready for her again. So hard and so ready.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Something tells me you have heard that more than once.”

“But I want to hear it from you.” He said, nibbling her delectable little ear.

“Do you need to hear it from me?"

“Ohh God yes,” he said smiling. “You are the only one who matters.”

“What will you do to me if I say it is?”

“I would probably have to find some way of rewarding you.”

“And what if I refused to say it?” She bit her lip and grinned impishly.

“Then I would have to spend a very long time making sure you knew the error of your ways.” He kissed her. “Vixen.”

She mewed under him most deliciously. “I think I need more convincing.” She breathed.

He kissed her, and turned the dial up all the way to eleven on the Sidhba-jai.

“OHHHH GOD YES!!” She threw her head back, her lips plumping, her breasts growing more round and firm, nipples hard as pebbles, her body curving and writhing, her blue eyes vacant with lust, her whole body welcoming her master.

He captured her hands, preventing her from touching herself and spread her legs wide, himself in between, rubbed himself all up and down her body. She came violently, shuddering and screaming, only then did he entered her, filling and stretching her, her orgasm surrounding him, bringing his. He moved inside of her, drunk with the passion of her response, hard, relentless, inexorable, drinking in her screams and moans as he wrapped his wings around her, bringing her heavenly breasts to his lips as she came and came, the taste and feel of her lush body beneath him, all around him driving him mad with lust. Dear God she was exquisite this way! He came again and again along with her, lost in her, carried away himself…filling her to overflowing….

He cried out. _Him!_ He shouted down the heavens, his voice ricocheting like thunder around them…through them…never before! Never had he done so!  Never had it felt soo...GOOD!

Once more he came—violently. Then with supreme effort, he toned himself way down again—all the way, as close to zero as he could manage--allowing her to gasp and to recover as he held her against himself, wrapped his wings and arms around her, brushing her hair away from her face gently, allowing himself a small self-satisfied grin.

“Are you convinced?” He whispered, husky in her ear.

She moaned again, helpless and weak in his arms as he held her against himself.

It was some time before she could speak.

“Dear…God! Yes!” she said, her hands on his face, sliding down his body, fluttering aimlessly over his shoulders, his chest, his navel, as if assuring herself that he was real.

He smiled into her eyes, pleased to see them coming back into focus, and rolled them smoothly until he was beneath her.

God she was more brilliant, more blindingly beautiful than the sun. More—so much more—than any other lover he’d ever known. All of them combined—Fae and human—could not combine together to equal the radiance of his love. He could never have enough of her. He reached up with both hands and pulled her gorgeous lips down to his and devoured her.

“Ride me, my Angel, my Dove,” he crooned at her, releasing her to sit up fully on him. “Rock your world over me. I want to watch you. You are perfection…my lover, my Victoria--”

Damned if she didn’t!  In total--blissful--erotic abandon, she rode him and rode him, and damned if he didn't come again and again just watching her.

He had to stop this! God, he had to, before it was too late!  But it was soo good for them both it was some time before he could bring himself to do it.

Finally, he rolled them, pinning her, withdrawing from her with the greatest of efforts.  She whined and mewed and rubbed herself against him, until fear took his heart as he gazed into her vacant eyes. Quickly he summoned the elixir, and held it to her lips. Only by erotic suggestion could he get her to drink, and then, he removed himself, covering her again with ermine.

He watched anxiously from the shadows as she cried and thrashed, and eventually quieted. After a time, she slept.

D’Jai stood over his love, shielded from her eyes by glamour, and wept. She would live. She would recover. But this had been a very near thing.  He must not ever lose control again.  It was imperative now that they find the Orb. And soon.

But first, she needed compete rest.  And that he could not give her here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have sufficiently explained all Fever-ish ideas associated with this chapter. If you have questions, please let me know!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at Trinity, Christian brings all factions together to discuss the mysterious object found at the dig site, and what, if anything, it has to do with the disappearance of Victoria and Dr. Lamb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should have done this before. For all who are like me and can't stand to read a word and not know how to pronounce it, this is for you:
> 
> Fever Term Pronunciation Guide:
> 
> Queen Aoibheal--pronounced "Ah-VEAL"  
> Cian--pronounced "KEY-on"  
> Dageus--pronounced "DAY-gus"  
> Samhain--pronounced "SO-ehn"  
> Sidhe-seers--pronounced "SHE-seers"

Chapter 9

 

One week after their return to Dublin, Christian stood in the Ancient Languages department conference room with the others, all staring at the metal tube on the table.

There had been no sign of Dr. Lamb or Victoria. They had both officially been declared missing.

The news still hung heavy over all at the table. Well, most all, he thought, favoring Barrons and Ryodan with a frown.

At least their find had given them some much-needed direction. Since returning to Dublin, the team had lost no time in trying to decipher everything they could about the strange object. This meeting today would be to discuss their findings across the board and determine what their next steps should be.

Christian had no doubt the object was far more significant than Lamb’s archaeological team could possibly imagine. Every instinct he had told him it had something to do with finding the Orb. And the Orb would lead them back to Victoria and eventually, Lamb. Barrons, Ryodan, and his uncles were all in agreement upon that point, at least. The question was, how much of what they knew should be shared with the members of the archaeological team?

Not all of them had come today. Mina, along with Alfred, Emma, Albert and Ada from Lamb’s archaeological team were in attendance. The dig team had been difficult to coordinate, all things considered, but finally Christian had persuaded Mina to come and share her findings, and Mina, in turn, had persuaded the others to accompany her, until there were at least a decent delegation from the archeology team present.

Barrons and Ryodan were also present. Pricks, the pair of them. As if he could have kept them away, he thought with a heavy sigh. He studied them surreptitiously for a moment. Both of them were impeccably dressed in what even he could tell were genuine Armani suits, both black as midnight. Ryodan’s shirt was crisp and impossibly white, with diamond cuff links that winked in the overhead lighting. Barrons’ shirt though was blood red, and a thick silver cuff wrought with Celtic knot work banded one wrist, while a torque made of twisted strands of silver, capped with black stones writhed close around his neck beneath the collar. It was curious, that torque. Like some of the grave goods he’d seen pulled out of ancient Celtic burial sites. He wondered idly where he’d acquired it. And when.

There was something dark and sinister about them both. More than that, despite the Armani suits, the fast cars, motorbikes and the air of old wealth mixed with modern urbanity that hung about them, there was something…primitive beneath it all. Feral, dark and wild. If they didn’t dabble in the dark druid arts, even more so than his Uncle Cian, he’d be very much surprised. And for Uncle Dageus to say the Draghar feared them…what in the world could the spirits of thirteen of the most evil druids who ever lived have to fear from anyone, let alone the owners of an old world bookstore and a trendy Dublin nightclub? It was enough to give him pause for sure. And how the devil did they move so fast?

Nay, there was far more to the pair of them than met the eye. He wasn’t a bit happy they were still here, but he had no doubt they were here to stay.

But at least his twin Uncles, Drustan and Dageus, were here also, so he wasna exactly alone. Uncle Cian had traveled home again to be with his wife and the rest of the clan while he made preparations for the Ritual that would be taking place there on Samhain, while Christian and his other two uncles settled things here. But even though they were at home in Scotland, Uncle Cian and Christian’s father, Christopher MacKeltar, were piped in on a conference call.

Additionally, Christian had also persuaded Dr. O’Connor, the College’s foremost expert in Ogham, to attend to provide language support.

Looking around the table, he did a quick mental roll call. Everyone was present. With a nod from his Uncle Drustan, he stood, signaling the meeting to come to order.

“Right,” he began, “We’re here today to discuss the cylindrical artifact that the dig team discovered at the hill fort site just before the disappearance of Dr. Lamb, and to see if we can’t get a better idea of what it is and what it means.

“First, we will begin with introductions. My uncles, Drustan and Dageus, are well versed in certain…ancient religious rituals and practices that may be relevant to this object. Additionally, my other Uncle Cian, and my father are both present by speaker phone. Uncle Cian has additional expertise in religious rituals, and my father is an expert in ancient languages. Jericho Barrons and his associate Ryodan have a vast experience of antiquities, especially of Irish and Celtic origin, as well as certain other knowledge of related subject matter that may be of great value to this discussion. Mina and her team are part of the excavation that discovered this object, and Mina herself is an expert in ancient Irish culture. Dr. Catriona O’Connor is Trinity’s foremost expert in Ogham writing and in certain…beliefs…strongly associated with Ireland, both past and present. Mina, would you care to elaborate on why we’re all here today?”

“Certainly,” she stood and favored the table with a smile. Christian sat, returning her smile. He enjoyed looking at Mina. She was delicate and girlish, with her flaxen hair and her cornflower blue eyes, and a slight ruddiness of complexion, and delicious, feminine curves that gave her the look of a Highland lass. Her whole appearance was delicate, girlish, fragile, but he knew for all her softness, Mina had a core of steel. He indulged himself in a brief daydream of Mina, in the traditional dress of a Scottish maiden, laughing, blue eyes flashing in flirtatious challenge as as she ran through a field of purple heather, himself hot on her heels, her purple MacKeltar plaid arasaid trailing behind her…

Suddenly he felt the hot blue stare of her boyfriend, Alfred, fixed on him. His gaze was knowing, and Christian could feel the waves of jealous disapproval rolling off of him. He raised an ironic eyebrow in response, more as an amusement than anything else. He had no real designs on Mina. They were friends, nothing more. And he knew she was crazy about Alfred. Aye, he may indulge himself in a wee daydream of catching her in the heather, tumbling her to the ground and kissing her sweet lips, and any other part of her she cared to favor him with, for the whole of an afternoon, but what man didna fantasize now and again about his female friends? It wasna like he’d act on it, after all. Alfred, less-than-satisfied, turned his possessive gaze back to Mina as she continued to speak.

“…So as you can see,” she was saying, her blue eyes dancing animatedly with excitement as she talked, aiming her clicker at the monitor that displayed a map of the dig site, “The cylinder was found here, at a depth of about eight inches. And yet its age is considerable.” She clicked again, and on the screen was the analysis of the tube. “It is also believed to be hollow. A tube to protect a scroll we think, with its seals still in tact, so there is a high probability that whatever it was made to house is still inside.” She clicked again. “Last week, we took the object to the lab and subjected it to a laser ablution process. The process removes microscopic molecules from the surface in order to test its isotopes to determine its exact chemical make up. The results were conclusive, but surprising. The tube is iron, but it is covered with a protective layer of copper.”

“So our first question is, why on earth would someone go to the trouble of that?” Ada asked. “That’s what we couldn’t figure out. These were ancient peoples. Metallurgy would have been time consuming and difficult, to say nothing of expensive, and primarily their efforts would have been focused on making tools and weapons for survival. Iron would have been sturdy enough, surely.”

Ada. There was another pretty lassie, Christian thought. Honey blond hair, and gorgeous features. More womanly than Mina. There was a voluptuousness to Ada that was luscious to contemplate. From her big eyes, and her full lips down to her full round breasts and hips, even the slight husky tones of her voice were incredibly hot. By God, Albert was a fool. How any man could resist such a gorgeous creature so obviously taken with him was beyond comprehension. Aye. He’d love to chase her through the heather, too.

Ada turned and caught his eye. Smiled. Beautiful, curvaceous lips framing perfect white teeth. He had a sudden vision of just where he’d like to feel those lips…

Bloody hell!

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus back on the conversation at hand.

“…Except that iron is corrosive. It rusts very easily.” Doctor O’Connor looked up from her contemplation of the tube. “Whoever made this, knew that what was inside of it would have to be protected for a very long time. Perhaps…in the ground.”

“And copper is not as corrosive,” Albert put in. “Yes of course.”

“But that would mean whoever made this, knew that it would have to stand the test of time probably underground.” Ada put in.

“Precisely,” Barrons said.

“But in that case, why use iron at all?” Alfred asked. “It seems a waste of time and materials, surely. Why not just make the tube from copper to begin with?”

“Because somehow they felt the iron component was very, very important.” Dr. O’Connor raised her eyes to Christian’s uncles, gazing at them pointedly.

Dageus inhaled sharply, as Drustan whistled softly under his breath, and Christian suddenly forgot all his lustful thoughts and sat up straight.

On the speaker-phone, Cian’s voice growled. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking, lass?”

“Yes, I believe we are.”

Barrons was standing at the edge of the table, stock still. He exchanged a sharp look with Ryodan that was almost triumphant.

“What?” Mina was looking back and forth from one to the other. “Wait…no. Surely not!” She laughed a little, but the smile died on her face as she continued to gaze around.

“Aye. Ye ken our meaning well.” Dageus put in.

“Well I do not. Would you care to enlighten us as to your revelation?” Albert asked with some asperity.

“Well, it seems almost impossible to credit but, iron had a very special purpose in the belief system of the Ancient Irish.” Mina locked eyes with Dr. O’Connor, who nodded sagely.

“That’s right. For reasons we do not understand, even today, the Ancient Irish believed that iron could ward off…the Fae,” she said.

“The Fae?” Ada said, looking around in disbelief. “As in--fairies?”

“As in the Tuatha Dé Danaan,” Christian said in clarification. “Not as in Tinkerbell, lass. They are verra different things.”

“So, you’re saying what we have here is an object--” Ada began.

“--Not an object. Not in and of itself,” Dr. O’Connor said with a shake of her head. “The casing is unimportant. It is the scroll inside that matters.”

“And you think for sure that there is a scroll?”Ada continued.

“Oh without a doubt,” she said, rolling the case around in her hands and gazing at the writing. “If we’re very, very lucky, it will still be in tact and readable. If we are not, it will have crumbled to dust long ago.”

“And what you are saying is, that whatever is on this scroll, has to do with the Fae?” Albert said, pointing to the case. “And that is why it was made from iron and then covered in copper?”

“Because whatever is inside is valuable enough that the original writers wanted it to last on into the future—and not fall into the hands of the Fae. I’d bet my pet cocker-spaniel that its a warning of some kind.” Dr. O’Connor said.

“A warning? But—surely the Fae are mythological!” Emma put in.

“That’s just it, Lass,” Drustan said quietly. “They’re not.”

“What?” Emma spluttered. “You actually expect me to believe that?”

“Choose to believe it or not, it is the truth. And if you chose to doubt it, you are no better off than a person who refuses to believe that the snake before him on the sidewalk will not really bite, and decides to take a step toward it to prove it.” Ryodan said.

“Wuh…” Emma looked around the table. “But we’re all scientists in here! Surely—”

“Refusal to acknowledge a threat does not make it go away.” Barrons added. “It only blinds you to the danger. Blindness—especially willing blindness--is a fatal weakness. It makes you a walking, talking victim. Is that what you want to be, Ms. Portman?”

She looked around the table, opened her mouth to speak and closed it again.

“I ken it may be hard to accept at first, lass,” Drustan said calmly. “But tis the truth.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about the cylinder?” Christian said, keeping the meeting moving.

“Yes,” Mina said, recovering herself with something like a shake. “So again, the laser ablution test results proved it to be an iron tube, with a copper coating, but the test was inconclusive regarding establishing an age. So we sent the data to Germany for further analysis. According to the German Mining Museum, which houses the most comprehensive database in the world regarding archaeological mining records, isotopes present in the copper and iron of this casing match the same isotopic signature as mines that were active in the western region of Ireland in the 9th Century, A.D.”

“So chemically, the object matches the time period of the Ogham writing, as well as the location in which it was found,” Albert said.

“That is correct,” Mina answered. “So that is it’s authenticity verified. Now we can accept that this is an Irish artifact, dating back to the period in which Ogham was in use, and that this script is authentic Ogham writing from the period. Therefore we can now turn our attention to the inscription.” Mina sat down.

Christian took his turn to stand. “For that, I should hand it over to Dr. O’Connor, our foremost expert on Ogham script.”

Dr. O’Connor stood, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder. Another beautiful lass, Christian thought. Unfortunately she was married and had a pair of wee laddies of her own. “The inscription on the surface is damaged, making a complete translation not possible. But I do have a small semblance of a translation.” She took control of the clicker, and moved through a series of slides. “If anyone is interested in the translation process, I have included the details here and I’ll be happy to provide them. But I rather think that for our purposes here today, we might just get to the bottom line.” She clicked some more, and flashing on the conference screen went manuscript by manuscript, and what looked like handwritten notes and decoding sequences.

“An important thing to note about Ogham was that often times it was used more like a cypher than straight, written language. And considering the nature of the contents this houses, and the importance that was placed on its preservation, its a safe bet to assume the inscription on the casing is probably no exception. So the good news is I can give you a partial translation. The bad news is…we don’t know if we are reading it right, or if it has a more symbolic or hidden meaning.” She gave one final click and the room went soundless.

They stared at the screen and for a time, no one speaking in the room.

“For the love of yer Mam, lad,” came a voice from the speaker-phone, “Can ye please tell us what it says?”

“Sorry Da,” Christian said, then, squinting, he read the screen:

_“The Sluagh returns…look to the East…”_

“Ahhh,” said his father.

“There’s also this little symbol—here. Almost invisible due to weathering. But if you know what to look for, it makes sense.” Dr. O’Connor clicked the button and the top of the cylinder appeared, magnified until extremely large.

“Da, what we’re seeing is like a clover leaf symbol.”

“But with its leaves slightly misshapen,” Dr. O’Connor said.

Mina gasped and they shared a nod.

“Is that—”

“Yes, unquestionably.”

“What?” Asked Emma, looking between them.

“Its the symbol of the sidhe-seers,” Mina said excitedly. She turned to Emma’s confused face. “According to legend, the sidhe-seers are a group of women who can see the Fae, where most humans cannot.”

“Yes. And as such, they were humanity’s first line of defense against the threat of the Fae,” said Dr. O’Connor.

“And this is their symbol,” Mina stated. “A misshapen clover leaf.”

“Two S’s crossed with a P, and it stands for See, Serve and Protect.” Dr. O’Connor used her laser pointer to chase the form around the image of the clover on screen, highlighting the letters. “Which explains the iron casing, protecting the contents from the Fae. This is a sidhe-seer document, there can be no question about that. A bit of sidhe-seer lore, intended for that sisterhood. It could contain a prophesy, long-lost to time, or a warning against some future event. Intentionally buried, no doubt, in the hopes that at the right time it would be found and read by those who would most directly be able to take a necessary action to protect the general population from the threat of the Fae.”

“Oh this is a very exciting find!” Mina exclaimed. “I wish Dr. Lamb was here! He would be so proud of us!”

Her comment fell upon the room like a bomb.

After a long, sobering silence, Christian said, “Perhaps we should work on the translation.”

“Aye well. It seems a bit obvious, aye?” His father said from the phone. “The _Sluagh_ is the Wild Hunt, which refers to the Fae. This is a warning about the Fae’s return.”

“The Wild Hunt?” Albert said.

“Oh yes,” Mina put in. “It is folklore that comes originally from the Norse. It has always been viewed as a sort of metaphor for a winter storm. During times such as Samhain, that’s Halloween, or even during Yule time, Odin would lead the Wild Hunt through the night skies, gathering the souls of those unfortunate enough to be out of doors. But in Ireland as well as Scotland, it was the Fae who rode through the skies upon fiery steeds, with the hounds of hell baying around them. It was their sport, you see. They would gather especially beautiful maidens, or even young men and take them away to…well…” her cheeks turned pink.

“To f*** them,” Barrons put in bluntly. “Until they were mindless beings and of no further interest to them. Then they would discard them and leave them to die. There is no benefit to sugar-coating it. It is important to understand what you are dealing with.”

“Anyway,” Mina continued, cheeks even pinker now after a glance at Barrons. “That is the _Sluagh._ ”

“So that is the warning. That they are returning.” Emma said.

“Exactly.” Mina said. “From the East. Since this was found on the Western side of the island it could refer to anywhere. Dublin even.”

“There are no Fae in Dublin!” Albert leaned back. “There are no Fae anywhere. It is all folklore—mythology. This is giving me a headache.”

“There are Fae here in Dublin,” Ryodan said. “There always have been. And recently their numbers have been on the rise.”

“Really. And how do you know this?” Albert asked.

“I make it my business to know everything that goes on in my city.” Ryodan said. “And that is all _you_ need to know. Kid.”

“The Fae are here; there’s nae question,” Dageus said. “And they’re closer to you than ye may realize.”

“Oh really.” Albert crossed his arms, clearly in disbelief.

“Aye.” Dageus said, holding his eyes. “Really.”

“You mean Dr. Lamb. Don’t you?” Emma raised her eyes to Dageus.

Dageus inclined his head.

"I've always known...there was something about him that was...different.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but..." Emma shrugged.  "I put it up to the fact that he was...well, sexy.  But its more than that.  It's something about his eyes...his demeanor.  I can't say for sure, but as soon as you said that--I knew you meant him."

“Wait a minute! Now Dr. Lamb is a Fae? This is getting crazier than I can handle!” Albert stood to leave when suddenly Ryodan was standing right over him. How he got across the room so fast Christian had no idea. He blinked…and there he was.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Ryodan said, his clear gray eyes boring into Albert’s. The man had some seriously chilling eyes. Whoever and whatever the hell he was, Ryodan was a man who saw—and acted—with absolute clarity. A man with no regrets. “Sit. Down.”

Albert sat, jaw working in anger.

“Dr. Lamb is Fae,” Christian said. “There’s no question. And as much as I like and respect him, it’s time everyone at this table knows the truth. He’s not just any Fae. He’s Fae royalty. A prince of one of the four Seelie Royal Houses. The highest caste of the Fae.” He turned his face to Dr. O’Connor. “And as a founder, one of the oldest of his race still living.”

“Yes,” she said, “He is.”

“How do you know this?” Albert asked.

Dr. O’Connor studied her hands. Then looked around the table at the participants for a long moment before responding. Taking a deep breath, she said simply, “I have seen his…wings.”

Emma gasped.  Albert threw himself back in his chair with a huff of disbelief, but a glance at Ryodan kept him silent.

“Wings? Like an angel?” Ada asked.

“Yes.  Very like an angel.  But darker.  With brown...feathers, like his hair mostly.  But with some of them are iridescent, green like his eyes.  And they're enormous.  But they're not always visible.  The glamour he uses to hide them is very strong.  But sometimes they're there, plain as day.”

Mina looked hard at Dr. O’Connor. “You are a sidhe-seer, aren’t you?”

She nodded, blue eyes moving around the room with fear. “And if any of you ever speak of it outside this room—I’m a dead sidhe-seer. The Fae do not take kindly to our sort. We have to pretend not to see through their glamour in order to…survive.  And sometimes...that's a lot of pretending.  Dr. Lamb's glamour is very strong.  There's no question he's a Seelie prince--he's too powerful not to be.  Though why his glamour is so dark I do not entirely understand."

“And he’s got Victoria.” Emma’s face was ashen. “Oh God…I encouraged her! I—” she put her face in her hands.

“Dinna worrit, Lass,” said Drustan kindly, “We have reason to believe she’ll come to nay harm.”

“Who is he?” Asked Mina, swallowing hard. "Do we know?"

“D’Jai, the founder of the D’Jai house,” Barrons said.

Dr. O’Connor nodded. “That was our assessment as well. It was believed that there were only two Fae in existence that had wings. Both are males, and both Unseelie. The Unseelie King, and Cruce. The Unseelie King is the founder of the Unseelie Court, and vanished long ago. Cruce was his prime creation. An Unseelie Prince, as beautiful as his Seelie counterparts, but dark where they were fair. He was terrifyingly beautiful, made in the King’s own image, and extremely powerful. But he was killed during the war between the two courts, about the time when the Unseelie King killed the Seelie Queen. To find another Fae male with wings, who was clearly Seelie but chose a darker glamour, was something that our sidhe-seer lore had no mention of, except in very old texts. But he was a rumor even then, nothing more. Many believed he never really existed at all. When we first made contact with him, it sent our researchers deep into our lore to find out who he was, and why he was here.”

“And what did ye discover, lass?” Drustan asked.

“That he was old—as ancient as the Unseelie King—and extremely powerful, if not _the_ most powerful male Fae still known to be in existence, with power second only to the Seelie Queen and the Unseelie King.”

“But didn’t you just say this…Unseelie King…killed the Seelie Queen?” Albert asked.

“The Fae are matriarchal. When one Seelie Queen either dies or decides to retire, she passes her power down to a chosen successor. The current Seelie Queen is many Queens removed from the original, who died in the war before she could pass on the Song of Making—the ultimate source of Seelie power. Since then, the Fae have been in a sort of downward spiral. Without the Song—which is the fabric of all Fae worlds—they can no longer maintain their realms. The existing fabric is breaking down, and that results in not only a decline in the powers of the Fae themselves, but also in the walls between the worlds of the Fae and the world of man.” She shrugged. “That’s it in a nutshell. There’s more to it than that, really, but its not really relevant to the discussion today. But to answer your question, the current Queen is Queen Aoibheal.”

“Aye. But we really need to focus our discussion on Professor Lamb—or Prince D’Jai,” said Christian. “What else can ye tell us about him, Doctor?”

“Not much, except the fact that he has wings means that he is a more ancient member of their race than all the others,” she said. “He’s a contemporary of the originals, and the founder of the House of D’Jai, one of the four main royal houses of the Seelie Court. He is also the sire of the notorious Adam Black, the only other known prince of the D’Jai house. And he is said to have crafted one of the Fae Objects of Power, the D’Jai Orb. What the Orb did and why he made it though have been lost to time, as well as the Orb itself.”

“So that is the answer to the first question—who he is. The second question is the next thing we must contend with—why is he here. And we believe we have the answer to that.” Christian said.

“According to Fae lore, D’Jai fell in love eons ago with a human woman. He was so enamored of her that when she died, he went stark staring mad. He continued to grieve her for a thousand years, before finding her…again. Reborn in a new form, but still his beloved. From that time to this, he has been living among humans, masquerading as one of them, looking—always looking—for the return of his one true love. The fact that he has surfaced now, here, would seem to indicate that he has found her.” Dageus said.

“Victoria.” Emma said. “Oh my God. This is all about Victoria, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” Drustan said gravely. “We are verra much afraid it is.”

“There’s more. We also have reason to believe that D’Jai is after the Orb itself.” Christian said, looking at Barrons. “He’s been here a wee while, after all. As professor of archeology.”

“I agree. It does have something to do with the Orb. Otherwise, why set himself up as a professor of archeology at all? It fits all the way down the line. Think about his career here at Trinity, “ Dr. O’Connor said, turning to Emma and the others. “Find after find, what have they all in common?”

“Fae lore,” Mina said breathlessly, eyes wide and round. “Oh my God. Everything. It is all about Fae relics.” She looked up at Dr. O’Connor with huge eyes. “I never thought about it. But all his finds…they all end up having something to do with the Fae.”

“So, one has to ask,” said Barrons suddenly, “What is he really after? Why did he have you all out digging in the area around Maigh Cuilin?”

“Because that’s where the Tuatha De Danaan originally landed in Ireland.” Mina said.

“And it must also be where the Orb is located.” Dr. O’Connor said.

“And he was so sure…” Emma said, hugging her hands around herself. “So sure we’d find something at the end of the souterrain…in that area where he and Victoria had camped separately.”

“It’s easy to be sure of a find, when you were the one who put it there to start with.” Barrons said.

"But it's more than that," Christian said.  "Aye he may have known where it was.  But why not dig it up centuries ago?  Why wait until now?"

"Because now he has what he wants.  He has Victoria." Ryodan said simply. 

"Of course!" Said his father on the phone.  "It wasn't the Orb by itself that he was after."

"It was only relevant if she was nearby."  Barrons swore.

“He needed them both—in the same place together. But for what purpose?” Albert said, shaking his head gravely.  

“To turn her Fae.” Ryodan said. “He believes she is his long-lost lover, reincarnated. And the reason he’s crafted the Orb is to turn her Fae when the time was right. But in so doing, we have no way of knowing how the energy released will affect our worlds, or the walls between Faery and Man.”

“Aye well. I’ve done a bit of digging in our archives as well. I found only one mention of the Orb among our records. In an ancient manuscript written all in Ogham. The Orb is supposed to contain elements of the Song of Making. In which case, an energy discharge from the Orb could disrupt the status quo even more,” said his Da over the speaker phone. “Possibly even bring down the walls.”

“Or build them up again,” Cian said.

“To turn her Fae…you mean to make her into whatever he is?” Albert said, returning to an earlier point in the conversation.

“The Fae are immortal beings,” Barrons said. “Which means every time his lover dies, he loses her all over again. Has to search for her, all over again. Has to wait until she returns.  The only way to prevent that cycle is to make her what he is—immortal and Fae. This is why he crafted the D’Jai Orb.”

“Oh dear God…” Emma said. “I can’t believe this…”

“You must. Or Victoria hasn’t got a chance.” Christian said.

“Does anyone know…Was D’Jai a part of the Sluagh, by any chance?” Mina asked, her eyes fixed on the cylinder.

“He was its leader.”

All turned to look at Barrons, who spoke decisively, but did not offer any explanation as to how he’d come by his information.

“Well then. It’s becoming more important than ever to find out what is in this cylinder.” Mina said. “If this warning is in any way connected to the return of D’Jai for instance, and considering it’s nearness to where D’Jai expected to find the Orb, it could lead us to the Orb itself. And if we get there first…”

“Precisely, Lass,” Christian said, meeting her eyes.

“But where are they?” Albert stood, and went to a nearby window to lean against it. “It is as if they have simply disappeared, without a trace.”

“Aye well, as to that lad…” Drustan said, “We are reasonably sure that we ken where they went. Though we canna track them or follow.”

“Where?” Albert said, in a choked voice without turning back around.

“To the Faery realms, lad. He’s taken her to become his…consort.” Dageus said.

“To f*** her, you mean?” Albert said turning around slightly. “Yes. I am sure he has. And she was most willing to go.” He said bitterly, shaking his head.  "To the 'faery realms'," he shook his head with a derisive snort.  "Such rubbish.  Such nonsense."

"Why else do you think they vanished without a trace?"  Barrons said impatiently.  "If he had not they'd be back by now, or we would have found some clue as to where they'd gone."

“Aye well. True enough I’m afraid. But there’s one consoling factor—she is safe, at least for now. D’Jai is in love with her. He will not harm her. And we ken they will return for the Orb.  That gives us an advantage.” Drustan said.

“Especially as time moves differently there,” Ryodan said. “A day in Faery can be a year in our time. An hour a matter of months. We can take the opportunity to find the Orb ourselves.”

“But before we can do that, we really need to know what is inside of this.” Dr. O’Connor said, holding up the tube.

"So you really believe this message has something to do with the Orb?" Albert asked. 

“I do.  It was found too close to where we think the Orb is not to be relevant in some way.  So with your permission, I will take this to the lab tomorrow and see if we can’t open it under more controlled conditions. We want to take every precaution to preserve whatever may be inside.”

The table agreed and then the meeting adjourned, with plans to reconvene to discuss any result that may come from the opening of the tube in a few days time.

After the room emptied, Albert stood, an arm propped on the side of the window, looking out over the view of Trinity College grounds and the city of Dublin beyond. Christian wasn’t sure why he did it, but he stayed behind. He had no particular liking for Albert, but he supposed that he sympathized.

Albert turned in acknowledgment, offered him a half smile.

“She told me,” he began, “not to wait for her. That she could not love me, even without Dr. Lamb. I thought it was strange, how she was…so drawn to him. A man so much older,” he scoffed. “Now to find out he is far, far older than anyone suspected.” He shrugged. “I knew when she went with him, that they would become lovers. She had every intent to sleep with him. And he of course, had planned it from the beginning. And yet I was so foolish to think that maybe afterward, after she got it out of her system, she would somehow notice me. That somehow I would still win her. And now that I know I cannot—that it will never be between us—I somehow still cannot let go. I love her still. When she is near, my heart is happy…it is…content. When she is gone…I can find no peace.”

Christian nodded. “Some women are like that, aye? They get under our skin.”

Albert shook his head. “It is more than that. I feel…almost…a sense of destiny when I look at her. There is something about her so familiar. From the first moment I saw her I felt it. I looked at her and knew. And when I held her in my arms…I knew we belonged together. How is that possible when she was destined for another?  Do you believe in all of this?  Fae Princes?  Faery realms?  Reincarnation?"

Christian clapped him on the shoulder."'There more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"

Albert scoffed a laugh.  " _Hamlet_.  Act I, scene...5 I believe."

"Aye well.  He was a canny old bird was Shakespeare.  Even if he was English."

They shared a laugh.  "It is a lot to take in.  And yet...I find I do believe it.  When one looks at all the evidence, it makes sense.  Perhaps we have all been here before?  The thought is troubling to me.  To endlessly repeat the same dance does not appeal to me.  I would like to believe everyone's life is new, singular to themselves."

Christian did not reply.  He wasn't sure about it either, but he was already privy to way more of the supernatural than Albert had ever been.  His three uncles, after all, had all time traveled from hundreds of years in the past, one of them inside an enchanted mirror.  But he sensed the other man had had as much of a taste of such things as he could stand for one day, so he forbore to mention it.

“Some of us are going to Chesters, aye? It’s Ryodan’s domain. But as far as dens of iniquity go, its a verra fine one. Care to join me for a drink there?  My treat.”

“No, I thank you. I do not drink. Or go to night clubs. I have studying to do. But if you would like, perhaps Ada would accompany you? I would prefer to be alone I think."

"She doesna have eyes for any man but you."

"Well.  Perhaps she should learn to open them and look around.  I am no good to her right now."

“I'll ask her if she would like to go, aye?  As a friend.  But anytime you'd like to have that drink...just let me know."

“Thank you,” Albert said half-smiling, and turned to follow him out the door, casting one last parting glance at the cityscape before closing it softly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This in its own way was a very difficult chapter. I have poured over it endlessly, looking for holes in the discussion, things I forgot to mention, or missing information. If you find anything I have overlooked, please ask me! And as always, thanks for reading! I love all your comments, should you care to leave any. More Feverbourne will be coming soon!


End file.
